Perception
by Evergreen
Summary: With a new graduate student's unique help, Jim and Blair follow the trail of a terrorist who seems to have a personal vendetta against the pair. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

**_Perception_**

_By Evergreen                                                                                         _

2000, 2001, 2002, 2003©

****

**"Sometimes reality and fantasy drink out of the same cup."** _–_Evergreen, 1999

Section 1:

I pushed open the heavy oak doors of Hargrove Hall and walked through them.  This was, actually and symbolically speaking, the beginning of a new life for me.   I was relocating from the University of Maine to Washington State.  The cool weather seemed familiar enough, but the difference in the moisture level was truly unreal.  My hiking boots squeaked noisily in the empty hallway as I continued my trek.   I could hear murmurs of many voices creeping out into the hall, surrounding me like ghosts.  I unconsciously clutched my worn leather satchel a bit closer to my hip.  My left arm was getting tired from carrying my preliminary report of my thesis topic, outline, and research notes.  As nervous as I was, I was excited, too.  All that work, all that stress, disappointment and sleepless nights had been worth it.  I was so much closer to realizing my dream of becoming a Ph.D. in Anthropology.   I was hoping to garner some support from Dr. Kinyon so I could conduct some field research on the _Fortago_ peoples from southern Ecuador.  They were a matriarchal society, a minority surrounded by a patriarchal majority of societies.  Their societal structure always fascinated me and now I wanted financial support to realize my thesis.  I started to smile until I thought about how much more I still had to do to finish my thesis.  Dr. Maxine Eliot-Jones had a nice ring to it, didn't it?  I always knew from the first time that I had looked at a _National Geographic_ in my grammar school librarythat I wanted to study people very different from me, to get to know how their minds worked.  I pushed an errant strand of my wavy black hair out of my face, wishing I had remembered a tie to pull my hair back.  Now where was I supposed to meet that Dr. Kinyon again?  I looked at my watch.  The numbers stared back at me defiantly as if daring me to be late for my nine a.m. meeting with the Dean of the Anthropology Department at Rainier University.   I started to walk faster and searched the tops of the doorframes for any hint of where her office was.   

            I turned the corner when I caught a one-way, very animated discussion on the marriage rites of the _Kibuti tribe of Peru.  I peeked into the classroom and saw the professor actually acting out the ritual of the storytelling contest held between the two prospective husbands in the battle to win the bride's family's approval.  He seemed to be making quite a show of it, although from the students' disinterested stares you'd think he was reading the phone book out loud.  I had spent some time with a _Kibuti_ clan while assisting a professor in his quest to discover the origin of those storytelling rituals during my master's thesis.  I was impressed by this exuberant professor's accuracy.  I crept into the classroom and hoped that I wouldn't disturb his dramatic rendition of the _First Ancestors' Great Hunt_.  His actions and words were so captivating that I was pulled into the story and away from my current predicament.  All of a sudden, a great noise of rustling books, papers, and students rising from their chairs woke me from my reverie.  I jumped up and went to speak with the professor._

            He was very young and had a great sparkle in his striking blue eyes when he looked up at me from scribbling something in his notebook.  "Yes, did you have a question?"

            "Uh, no questions.  I just wanted to say that I thoroughly enjoyed_ The Great Hunt_ story you told.  You were very accurate, although I seem to remember there were _seven _thousand cougars killed after the Gods struck at the Ancestors, not six."  He looked at me quizzically as if deciding whether or not to kick me out for being disrespectful. " I'm…. I'm sorry…", I started to stutter, afraid that I'd offended him.

            "No, you're absolutely right.  I always get those numbers mixed up.  But I don't think that anyone noticed."  He sighed.  "The students don't always seem to get the same charge out of this that I do."

            "I know what you mean.  But it's the end of the semester.  You have to expect that." I looked at my watch again, showing that I had five minutes to get to my meeting with Dr. Kinyon. I was now desperate. "You wouldn't happen to know where Dr. Kinyon's office is, would you?  I'm going to be late for a meeting with her.  Oh, by the way, I'm Maxine Eliot-Jones.  You can call me Max.  I'm going to be teaching _Anthropology 107: The Introduction to South American Cultures_ in the summer session.  Pleasure meeting you..?"  I held out my hand.  He grasped it and shook it firmly.  

            A flash of memory washed through me as I grasped his hand.  Not my memory, _his memory_.  Of him shoving a much larger man down on the ground as a large truck passed over them.  I continued to watch in fascination as the wheel axles passed overhead.  And then I was back.  I get these _flashes_ sometimes, a glimpse into someone else's psyche.  It's always light, but no sound. Like I'm watching a silent movie of someone else's life, not able to participate.  It's like the trailer to that movie, it's just enough to get you interested, but not enough to give away the plot.  I'm really not able to control them or catch anything deeper than just the most strong memories or impressions.  I've had them ever since I can remember, but have been extremely careful about sharing this information with anyone.  I shivered as the sensation left me.

            He didn't seem to notice my momentary lapse of attention.  "I'm Blair Sandburg, graduate student_ extrodinaire. Nice to meet you.  Here, we can talk on the way.  I'll show you the way to her office."  He flashed me a mind-numbing smile as he started to grab a light brown leather backpack from behind the podium and shove his notes into it.  He pushed his curly brown hair out of his face and started walking purposefully towards the door of the lecture hall.  He turned his head towards me.  "C'mon, we don't want you to be late.  But I warn you, Dr. Kinyon tends to be a bit talky, if you know what I mean. There was this one time…."  I followed him out of the lecture hall and back into the hall._

            We talked for those few minutes like we were old friends.  I felt instantly comfortable with this fellow graduate student, a kindred spirit.  He dropped me at her door and yelled as he walked away, "Come to my office when you're done.   I'm in office B-12, in the basement.  You can't miss it.  See you later, I gotta be somewhere.  I'll be back in an hour.  It was really nice meeting you, Max."

            "Thanks, you too, Blair," I called after him as I knocked on the door to Dr. Kinyon's office.  His smile remained with me as I opened the door.  There was something more to him than met the eye.

Section 2:

            Blair bounded into the police department, brimming with his usual energy.  He saw Jim at his desk, furiously scribbling some last minute additions to his final report while chewing the last remains of a glazed doughnut.  "Jim, Jim, you'll never believe what happened today.  I just met the greatest girl, she's an Anthropology grad student, just like me, and actually knows the _Great Hunt story of the __Kibuti clan…." Blair saw his partner, Detective Jim Ellison of the Cascade Police Department, Major Crimes division, start to lose focus in his eyes.   It was a sure sign that Jim was beginning to tune Blair out.  Blair's official title within the department was "Civilian Police Observer", arranged so Blair could gather data on his doctoral thesis on 'Sentinels', under the guise of studying the "Closed Society of the Police Department". Sentinels are humans with the genetic disposition to develop and utilize five heightened senses to protect his/her 'tribe' and his 'Guide' from danger.   Blair's job was to observe and protect his subject and best friend from some of the dangers that go along with being a Sentinel in his role of the 'Guide'.  The Guide's job included helping the Sentinel to effectively use his skills and to prevent his 'zoning' on one sense and becoming oblivious to any other stimuli.  When zoning occurs, the Sentinel becomes vulnerable and the Guide acts as his Sentinel's protector.  More recently, Blair's position seemed to have grown from a Guide to a 'Shaman', a spiritual leader for the Sentinel.  The role was endowed to him by Jim's previous shaman, Incacha, a member of the Chopec tribe of Peru that helped Jim survive his helicopter crash eight years ago.  "Okay, okay.  I won't get into the tribal rituals, but you should of have seen this girl, she was beautiful.  She's got this long black hair and the most amazing green eyes and a body you could …."_

            "Whoa, Chief.  Before you blow a gasket, how do you know that she's not like all the other girls, just after _your_ body?"  Jim put his hands up in mock surrender, his pen dangling from his fingers. He smirked as he signed the last piece of paper in the Johnson file.  He placed the paper in the file gently and patted the top.  He always did like finishing up a case with no problems, no Blair ending up in the hospital or kidnapped or something._  And what else was new, Blair was in love again.  He could practically hear the hormones flowing in Blair's bloodstream.  Blair's heart rate definitely reflected his elevated mood._

            "Jim, she's not like that at all.  She's after me for my _mind_," he said mischievously, raising his eyebrows as if to mock his own words as he started to make his way back out of the bullpen again.

            "Hey, where do you think you're going?  I still have paperwork here with your name on it."  Jim protested as he held up three file-folders worth of forms that needed to be completed.

            "Sorry, Jim. Prior engagement.  See you tonight, hopefully late."  Blair said as he left.  Jim smiled. _Love was like a drug to that kid; it always made him high.   Jim sighed as he started to dig into the huge mound of papers spread out on his desk.  _The only problem with closing a case was the avalanche of paperwork that followed it.__

Section 3:

            Blair's mind swirled with possibilities.  _Could this Max be real?  She was perfect and just about fell into his lap.  South American studies?  His specialty, even.  What was her thesis topic anyway?  Did she ever hear of Sentinels?  He had to get back so he could talk to her again.  __Today was shaping up to be quite interesting after all.  After Jim had used up all the hot water and his car died on the way to the university, he thought he should've stayed in bed.  There was no way he would have forgiven himself if he had missed out on meeting this new teaching fellow._

Section 4:

            Blair was right, Dr. Kinyon was a real talker.  I didn't mind though, she reminded me of my grandmother, thinking out loud.  I thought that those kinds of people were always the most open, you always knew what they were thinking.  My mind kept drifting to that interesting grad student, Blair Sandburg.  I tried to keep my attention on Dr. Kinyon, but she was off on another tangent and was content to drone on with just a few of my nods to keep her going.  What was it about him that pulled me to him, like I've known him forever and would never get tired of talking to him?   It was well over an hour later than when I was supposed to meet Blair back at his office by the time my meeting was over.  Funny, if you had asked what Dr. Kinyon and I had talked about for two hours, I couldn't have told you.  Oh well.  I hoped that he was still waiting for me.  I think that I would be horribly disappointed if he weren't there.  Now where did he say his office was?  In the basement? 

            I eventually found a stairway that went down to the windowless basement of Hargrove Hall.  I could smell the mustiness that came along with the storage of artifacts that dated back thousands of years.  The history that those artifacts represented was almost tangible.  I wished I could hear the stories that they could tell.  Sometimes I could feel whispers of the past touch the edges of my mind, some just out of reach, some a little more knowable.  That's why I went into Anthropology, to help tell the stories of peoples past and present.  Now only if they could only tell me how to find that damned office.

            My thoughts were so loud in my head that I didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind me until a finger tapped my shoulder.  I whipped around and saw the smiling face of none other than Blair.  "Holy crap, you scared the _bejeezus_ out of me!"

            "Is that a scientific term or a colloquial one?"  Blair laughed again and took my hand.  "C'mon, my office is just up ahead.  I've got some great _Kibuti artifacts that I want to show you.  Maybe you could tell me a little about this one that I just got.   It's got me a little stumped.  I haven't been able to find any reference to it in any of the usual texts…."_

            His office was more than a bit jumbled.  Artifacts ranging from Japanese thunder god statuettes to Masai warrior headdresses were scattered around the room.  Blair scooted ahead of me and cleared off a chair near, I presumed, his desk.  "Sorry about the mess, but you know what they say about anthropologists and organization…"  

            I looked at him quizzically, "No, what do they say?"  I tried very hard not to laugh as the slight flush of embarrassment stole across this young anthropologist's face.   He showed me a small shard of pottery that was supposed to be over one thousand years old.  I thought that I felt a slight buzz from it, even after all these years.  

"Maybe it was religious in nature, or belonged to some high level shaman," I said as I turned it over in my hands.  "I get the feeling that it was important to the tribe, very powerful.  Do you know any more about it?"

"Well, I found some markings on this side…", he began as he started to move my fingers to the edge of the piece.  I felt another flash from him and saw the face of a man with short hair and mesmerizing blue eyes, pointing a gun at him.  I shook my head to get back to reality, off-balance by what I had just seen.  "Max, are you still here?  I thought I lost you back there."  Blair laughed gently.  "I think that we've had enough shop talk to for now.  How about I buy you a cup of coffee?"  He took the artifact from my hand and placed it carefully back in a plain black case labeled "Property of the National Museum of Peru" in three or four languages.  

"Yeah, yeah, sure.  Sorry, a bit distracted by the piece, that's all.  It's an amazing find…."  I tried to steer the conversation away from myself again.  I stood up and followed Blair out of his office.  As he closed the door, I noticed the intricate design of the window glass.  "Wow, that's fabulous."  I put my fingers on it and again felt a flash of something.  It was a woman this time, beautiful and hostile, silently threatening Blair at his desk.  I saw his hands go up in surrender and…

"…I was able to replace the glass after an unfortunate incident with a……..student"  He cleared his throat and looked at the floor.  "But that's a story for another time…." He paused again, puzzled by my apparent lack of interest.  "Are you okay?  Was it something I said?"

"Sorry. I was just admiring the glass.  The pattern's from the _Book of the Dead_ from _Watanabi_ mythology, isn't it?"  I covered, hoping Blair wouldn't probe any further.  I've never had this many "flashes" in such a short period of time.  I was starting to get a headache from the strain.  "Now where's that cup of coffee you promised me?"  I smiled, praying for reprieve.

            We discussed the tribal rituals of the _Kibuti_ as well as many other groups that Blair has come into contact with in his lifetime.  He was extremely well traveled. We talked for a while more in his office and then moved to this great little teahouse close to the University campus.  I had a great cup of Oolong herbal tea, as recommended by Blair.  I didn't think that caffeine was going to help my growing headache.  

I began to suspect that Blair knew something about everything. I wondered why he has been spending so much time here at Rainier when his talents are practically begging to be used in some exotic place, discovering previously unknown civilizations.  Jeez, I sounded like a Star Trek episode.  

            The hours slipped by, like seconds.  The conversation wove from our childhood memories to future aspirations to our thoughts and beliefs.  This man was truly amazing to me.  When I yawned and looked at my watch, I was surprised to see that it said one in the morning!  "Blair, this has all been great.  It's been absolutely fabulous talking to you, but I've got to go to bed.  I haven't even had time to check into a hotel yet.  All my stuff is still in my car at Rainier."  I stared at the bottom of my empty teacup, idly wondering if the tea leaves could predict my future.  The café had emptied out, save for a few students struggling to cram for upcoming final exams.  I had a meeting with the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences in a few hours and I was going to look like hell.

            "Since it's my fault that you're out so late, I insist that you stay over at my place," he offered and added, "You can have my room and I'll take the couch," when he saw the look on my face.

            "Blair, that's very kind of you, but I don't want to put you to any trouble.  I'll just go and find a motel for a couple of hours.  I have a meeting at ten with Dean Whittaker.  I just need and shower and a couple of hours of sleep."  I started to get up.

            "Exactly, there's no reason to waste good money on a hotel, when _Hotel_ _Sandburg_ is free."  He smiled somewhat slyly, which concerned me a little bit.

            My eyesight became bleary with my next round of deep yawns.  "Okay, I'm too tired to argue.  I'm expecting you to be a gentleman here, Blair.  I'll just need to get a bag from the car."  Blair smiled and walked me to my car.

            It was around two a.m. by the time we reached the door to Blair's apartment.  I was impressed by the size of the building, it seemed rather well-kept for someone on a grad student's stipend.

            Blair looked at the expression on my face, "I know what you're thinking.  I have a roommate.  He already had the place before I ever met him.  Only thing, he's a light sleeper, so try to be as quiet as you can."  Blair fumbled with his keys and swore under his breath.  Blair opened the door and gingerly placed his keys in a basket by the door.  "This way to my room," he whispered.  I followed closely as I could only make out general shapes in the room from the streetlamp light streaming in through the french doors.

            I put my duffel bag on the bed and sat down next to it.  His room had a nice homey feel to it.  Its smelled like incense and cologne and clothes detergent.  It was _so him_.  As if I knew who _he was.  "Blair, I really appreciate all you're doing for me, making me feel welcome here and helping me out of this mess.  I don't know how to repay you." As soon as those words slipped out of mouth, I smiled.  "But Blair, you have to know that I'm not __that kind of girl."  He smiled back at me._

            "Max, don't worry about it.   The bathroom's over there and there are some towels in the closet.  Soap and shampoo are all in there already.  Use whatever you need."  Blair said as he got up from sitting next to me on the bed.  I stood up and kissed him on the cheek.

            "Thanks for everything.  See you in the morning."  I think he blushed.

            Blair practically tiptoed out of the room as he grabbed a blanket and a pillow from his chair. "Goodnight, see you later," Blair said as he closed the door.  I was only able to pull my clothes off and slip under the covers before sleep overtook me.

Section 5:

Jim woke with a start; something was definitely different.  He glanced at the clock.  It said "2:30 a.m." in large angry numbers.  He listened, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.  He detected Blair's heartbeat, a gentle soothing sound that made him breathe a sigh of relief.  _At least he was back in one piece_.  His heartbeat seemed louder somehow, like he was closer.  Jim got up and padded over to the top of the stairs.  He saw Blair's sleeping form on the couch.  _Not so unusual, Blair sometimes fell asleep on the couch when working.  He detected no high whine of Blair's computer or the sight of any open books.  Blair looked pretty well ensconced in the couch, like he meant to be there.  Just then, it hit him.  _There was someone else here_.  He detected another heartbeat, coming from Blair's room.  He hadn't even been looking for it.  It was slow and even, like the person was sleeping.  He smelled someone else too; he smelled oolong tea and a hint of perfume.  __Ah, that was it, Blair brought his new girlfriend home._

            He tried to go back to sleep but he couldn't help but remain awake to listen for any other changes in the loft.  The new person's scent, heartbeat, breathing were very jarring to him.  He couldn't seem to reduce his sensitivity like he usually could.  Normally, Jim would 'dial down' his hearing sensitivity so he could actually get some sleep without every little sound waking him up.  Blair had discovered a way that the Sentinel could lower his sensitivity to stimuli by imagining a radio dial in his head representing whichever sense he wished to reduce.  He was going to have to speak to Blair about this in the morning.  He needed some warning so he could prepare for new sensory input in his own house, for God's sake.  His house was sacred to him, a place to get away from everything.  Blair knew how hard it was for him to adjust to change.   He knew why Jim's rules were so important to him.  He stared at the ceiling and tried to focus only on Blair.  Focusing on the familiar heartbeat of his Guide made him feel more at ease as he started to drift away into unconsciousness again.

Section 6:         

I woke up suddenly and suffered extreme disorientation.  Where the hell?…  Oh, yeah. I went home with Blair last night.  I looked down at my sleeping clothes and noticed that all I was wearing was my underwear.  Jeez, you'd think that I'd at least have enough modesty to put on a tee shirt if I were in the same house as two men.  Oh well.  Panic filled me as my eyes shot around the room searching for a clock.  My watch seemed to have disappeared as well.  I can't miss the meeting with the Dean.  I grabbed the blanket off the bed, wrapped it around me, and quietly opened the door.  No other sounds of people being awake greeted me and it was only just dawn.  I had hoped to get out early enough to scope out some more of the University, to get a feel for the place I would be calling home for the next few years.  I sighed, hoping that I'd be able to find the bathroom without waking anyone up.  So, I immediately tripped over the end of the couch, promptly waking a sleepy Blair by issuing an obscenity.  

            "W…What, huh?" Blair managed to stammer in his sleep-induced confusion.

            "It's me, Max, Blair.  I'm trying to find the bathroom.  I didn't mean to wake you up.  I'm sorry.  You go back to sleep.  I'll find it.  Just point me in the right direction."  I said, holding back a giggle at the disheveled state of his hair.

            "S'okay.  I'll show you." He slowly got up from his comfortable nest he made from pillows and blankets on the couch and shuffled off in what I presumed was the direction of the bathroom.        

Blair opened the bathroom door and turned on the light.  I saw that he blinked rapidly in a valiant struggle to make his eyes adjust to the sudden onslaught of light. He probably wouldn't even remember doing this later.  "Thanks, Blair.  You're a doll."

"No problem."  He shuffled back to his own room and climbed into the bed that I just vacated, his previous sleep pattern already forgotten.

I climbed into the shower and let the warm water run over my body.  I laid a hand on the wall of the shower in an effort to steady myself.  A vision slammed into my mind with such force that I almost lost my balance.  The sight of a dead woman in a bathtub with a yellow ribbon around her neck and the words "Who am I now?" scrawled on the mirror sent a shiver down my spine.  I was released again and closed my eyes.  Just what the hell was Blair tied up in anyway?

Section 7:  

            Jim roused from the light sleep he had fallen into since earlier that morning.  He unconsciously searched for Blair again and found him in his rightful place in his room.  He sighed and started to get up when he realized that the shower was on.  All hopes that he had imagined the visitor were dashed when he heard the shower shut off and the low humming from the bathroom.  He pulled on his sweatpants and a tee shirt and walked down the stairs and right into a girl wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.

            She stopped short when she saw him and stared at him intently, as if she were trying to bore a hole in his head with her eyes.  He wondered why Blair always picked such intense women to hang out with.  They usually just made him feel uncomfortable.  

            "Good morning," Jim finally managed to say.  "I'm Jim, Blair's roommate."  He held out his hand to her.

            She took it and quickly shook it.  "Nice to meet you… Jim.  My name is Max.  I hope that I didn't disturb you.  Blair warned me about not making too much noise.  I tried to be careful."  She looked down at herself.  "Oh, excuse me, I need to get dressed."  She opened the door to Blair's room and walked into it.  The door closed softly behind her.

                Cute, definitely cute.  But she was more than she seemed.   Jim continued his trek to the kitchen to start on the coffee.

Section 8: 

            Blair woke as he heard the door to his bedroom close.  "Jim, Jim, what's wrong?" he asked fuzzily, only half-awake.

            "Nothing, Blair.  Everything's okay.  Go back to sleep."  He heard a gentle voice coaxing him back into dreamland.  _Wait, that wasn't Jim's voice._  His eyes opened only to slits at first, then fully open to see Max sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on a pair of jeans.  He swallowed noisily as she stood up to pull the jeans completely up.  She zipped up the jeans and bent over to rummage through her bag to find something else.

            "Max?  What are you doing here?"  Blair was confused.  _What great deity had he pleased to get a beautiful girl dressing in his room?_

            "Huh?  Oh, sorry.  Didn't mean to wake you up."  She walked over to him and ran a hand down the side of his face.  She leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly.  "Thanks for everything, Blair.  Maybe we can do this again sometime…" She paused as she zipped up her bag and slung it across her shoulder.  She smiled mischievously and walked out the bedroom door.  "Bye.  See you around campus."

            "Wait, Max?"  Blair attempted to pull on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers as he followed her out into the living room.  "When will I see you again?"

            She stopped when she heard him approach.  "Well, I volunteered to help proctor some finals today.  For ANTH 101 and 104, I think.  Maybe I'll see you then."  She turned around and faced him, inches away from him.  She smiled, leaned in, and kissed him full on the mouth.  His eyes went wide as she turned again, waved at Jim, and walked out of the loft.

            He stood in shock for a moment and looked over at Jim.  Jim saluted him and continued to fry up a couple of eggs.

            "That's some woman," Blair said under his breath.

            "That's for damn sure, Chief," Jim agreed.

Section 9:

            I had absolutely no idea what came over me at Blair's place.  I never acted like that, especially after only knowing someone _one day.  My mind raced back to the visions I had seen around Blair and they confused the hell out of me.  He appeared to be an eccentric graduate student after the same thing that I was, to become a Ph.D.  After that, my plans were generally a bit hazy.  Maybe travel, maybe teach, join the Peace Corps, something like that.  Oddly enough, my plans never involved someone else, someone to stay put for.  I smiled to myself, maybe that was about to change.  I began humming to myself again as I skipped down the stairs to the street.  I wasn't quite sure what to do once I got down, but I figured that something would look familiar eventually.  I thought that it probably would be a very long walk to the university. _

            So Blair was more than he seemed.  At least I know that the person who was threatening Blair with the gun was his roommate, Jim.  Maybe it was done in jest.  Maybe, but it didn't feel like that to Blair at the time.  Maybe Jim was the one who was wrapped up in all the weird stuff I had felt in the loft.  Funny, though, when I shook his hand, I didn't feel any 'bad vibes'.  Of course I hadn't really wanted to pick up anything, so I wasn't really trying.  It was getting very tiring to keep trying to interpret those images.  Hmmm.  I didn't feel like continuing my internal discussion, so I crossed the street to grab a bagel at a small donut shop.  A nice cup of coffee and a poppy seed bagel will make everything better.

            I put my hand on the door handle and a flash raced through my head.  

_All the patrons were lying face-down on the floor, their fingers interlaced behind their heads.  I heard whimpering in the background. I turned my head and was able to see around the room.  Two masked gunmen were surveying the hostages, large guns raised, while a third was emptying the cash register.  They apparently did not see me.  I heard a shocking bang and tensed up in response. Then I saw the clerk by the register slump down to the floor.  "No!", I screamed in my head.  The gunman who shot the clerk looked directly at me and I saw his blazing brown eyes.  "Stay down or I'll kill you!", he said with such conviction that I thought he was talking directly to me.  Then, I found that I wasn't able to move any other part of me or speak.  Again, I was a ghost in the lives of others._

 The picture faded and I found myself staring into the donut shop, bustling with patrons and employees.  I tried to shake the vision off as I opened the door.  Overactive imagination or the result of my recent flood of flashes?  I ordered my coffee and bagel and waited patiently for the employee to bring me my order.  _Everything's fine, everything's fine_, I kept repeating to myself in an effort to calm my nerves.

            "That'll be $2.49 please," the cashier told me flatly.  She watched me fumbling with my change with a look somewhere between annoyance and boredom.  Her face was that of the clerk I saw killed.  I stared at her in disbelief.  Her nameplate said Gail.  Who was named Gail anymore?  She cracked her gum and looked at the money I clutched in my hand.  

I gave her the money and asked a question. "Were there any robberies here that you remember?  Were you ever…held up before?"  She looked at me oddly and shook her head.

"Uh, thanks.  Just curious." I took my breakfast and sat down at a nearby table.  I began to ponder the strange shift in my visions.  I had never had a flash before that involved sound or never actually happened.  Maybe I had just imagined it.  Maybe my brain was still scrambled from my brief encounter with a certain irresistible anthropologist.  

I looked over at her again and saw her chatting with a fellow employee.  They seemed to be doing a lot of looking and gesturing in my general direction.  Way to be subtle.  

I wrapped up half of my bagel in a napkin and hefted my bag back on my shoulder.  I asked the bored cashier where the University was from here and she got me started in the right direction.  I thanked her and fervently prayed that my vision was very, very wrong.

Section 10:

            Jim purposefully strode across the Major Crimes bullpen, intent on reaching his desk.  He had to finish that report and have it on the captain's desk by two p.m.  Then, he and Sandburg were off to go fishing at a cabin that one of his old Army buddies offered to him for the weekend.  _The trout are going to be great this time of year, maybe I'll even let Sandburg try his new fishing rod.  He dismissed that thought immediately.  Sandburg tended to bring his own contraptions to fish with anyway.  As long as Sandburg stayed far downstream from Jim's fish, he would be happy.  As soon as Jim sat down at his desk his phone rang, breaking him away from his daydream.  "Ellison," he answered succinctly.  _

            "Yeah, Jim, it's Banks.  We got the remnants of an armed robbery and hostage situation at 3rd and Prospect, at the "Donut Hole".  One of the cashiers was killed but none of the patrons were harmed.  One of the customers said they told them that the cashier was killed 'as an example'.  I thought you might want to bring Sandburg over for this.  It's right in your neighborhood.  None of the witnesses saw anything or even had similar stories, for that matter.  Forensics has gone over it with a fine-toothed comb and came up with nothing we can use.  I thought maybe you could give us some of _your insight."_

            "On the way, sir."  He hung up the phone and wondered how this could have happened.  He was in that shop not two days ago.  _There had never been indication that the shop would have enough cash on hand to warrant a robbery, let alone a murder.  The donuts were good, but not that good.  Blair wandered in with two cups of coffee in hand as Jim grabbed his cell phone from off his desk._

            "Better make those to go, Chief.  We got a case."  Jim unconsciously felt for his gun, snugly sitting in its holster like a good little gun.  Blair turned around and followed Jim out of the bullpen and into the elevator.  

            "What's up, Jim?" He gave the detective a cup of coffee and waited expectantly.

            Jim began to explain what he knew as Blair's face fell.  He was a regular at that place and felt sorry for the unfortunate cashier.  The employees had always been friendly to the pair.  

            "Aw, man.  Maybe if we had gone there for breakfast this morning, we could've helped.  Done _something."  Blair looked at his shoes._

            "Chief, there was probably nothing that we could've done without putting the rest of the hostages in jeopardy."  As Jim said those words, he doubted he believed them himself.  _He_ would've found a way to protect the hostages, maybe he could've talked them out of killing the cashier, something… "Probably nothing we could do…", he said again, this time to try and convince himself.

            They arrived at Jim's pickup truck in silence.

            The scene in front of the donut shop was nothing short of chaos.  Ambulances and police cars were strewn all over the intersection in front of the establishment, lights flashing in a grim dance on the sides of the adjacent buildings.  Jim walked up to Simon who was talking to the head of the forensics team in preparation to do another sweep of the store for any other clues.

            Simon ended his current conversation and turned towards the detective and anthropologist with a short brunette woman in tow.  "Jim, you remember Claire Barnes, new head of the forensics team.  Claire, this is Jim Ellison, one of my best detectives, and his partner, Blair Sandburg.  Jim, I want you to help Claire and her team in any way that you can."  Each exchanged handshakes and a short greeting.  "Okay, get back to work.  Jim, I want to talk to you."  Simon gestured for Jim to follow him a short distance away from the others.  

            "Jim, make sure that you don't step on any of Forensic's toes this time.  We need to work together on this one.  See what you can do.  The body's behind the counter, the Coroner hasn't gotten down here yet.  There was a big pileup on Route 264 about a half hour ago.  So keep Sandburg away from there, we don't need him messing up the crime scene, if you know what I mean.  I want a full report when you're finished.  I can't have armed killers waltzing into public places and murdering people on my watch."

            "Yes, sir.  I'll do my best."  Jim started walking over to where Blair and Claire and now Detective Henri Brown were talking.  Simon hoped that would be enough.  _This was going to be a media circus soon, and Jim was his best hope at stopping these bastards.  He put his well-worn cigar in his mouth and lit it.  _

            "Jim, H. was telling me that one of the cashiers said that a young lady had come in this morning and actually asked if they were ever robbed before.  She had asked Gail Herman, the cashier who was killed.  When Gail said no, the woman just took her food and sat down, like nothing had happened."  Blair told Jim as he approached.

            "Did anyone get a look at her?" Jim asked, hoping that maybe they had caught a break, small as it may be.

            "Yeah, the cashier who was shot and her co-worker, Daniel Waters, over there.  I'm having a sketch artist come down any time now to help us out."  Brown pointed to a shaken young man, covered in a tan rough-looking blanket sitting on the back of an ambulance about thirty feet away.  Two medics and Inspector Megan Connor were talking with him.

            Jim listened carefully to what the young man was saying.  "Gail thought it was really strange that the girl would ask something _so out there…..The girl asked it so matter-of-factly that Gail thought that it must've been a joke or something.  I didn't think much more about it after Gail mentioned it to me.  I got a quick look at the girl who asked, but really dismissed it as some wacko having some fun.  All I know is that she had long dark hair and a backpack.  She asked Gail for directions to the University, so I guessed she was a new student, or something."  One of the medics gave him a paper cup filled with water.  The clerk took a large swallow and continued,  "I didn't think much more about it until the gunmen came in.  I was in the back, so I didn't see anything……I heard them yelling for everyone to get down and I hid under one of the counters.  I heard the gunshot and someone screamed.  I didn't come out until the police came in…. I'm sorry, that's all I can tell you__."  Jim noticed that his heart rate and breathing were elevated.__  The paramedics had him breathing in a paper bag to help him stop hyperventilating__.  They were also monitoring his vitals as he continued to breathe into the paper bag._

Jim nodded.  Blair glanced at the Sentinel, aware that he wasn't listening to the local conversation anymore.          

            "That's great.  You did really well.  Thanks for helping us." Megan patted the young man on the back before walking over the group.  Jim directed his hearing back to the discussion Blair was leading about why no one seemed to have the same story about what happened…. "Everyone has a different version of what happened.  What they think they saw and heard and how their mind puts it all together is different for each person.  It's called _perception_.  No one's is the same."  He stopped as he saw the Sentinel refocus on him.

            "Okay, Chief.  Let's take a look inside."  Jim walked away from the group towards the store.  Blair followed, waiting to be filled in on the latest developments.

Section 11:

            "I guess that means this weekend is off then."  Blair said with an edge of disappointment in his voice.  He was really looking forward to a little rest and relaxation.  He had planned on finishing the last of grading final exams this afternoon, just in time to leave for this weekend on a lake somewhere in the mountains.  His mind drifted back to the new graduate student, maybe he would be able to ask her out then.  _Back to the task at hand.  His eyes surveyed the scene.  Dumped styrofoam coffee cups and donut pieces lay strewn about on the tables and floor, apparently knocked over in the customers' attempt to comply with the gunmen's requests to get on the floor.  The flashing lights from outside bounced off the walls of the establishment like a grisly disco.  He tried to avoid looking near the counter, where he knew __the body of the cashier he always said good morning to lay.  He focused on the Sentinel to see if he was making any progress._

            Jim seemed to be focused on something, Blair couldn't tell what.  He watched the detective as he seemed to be standing still, staring off into space.  He watched for a little while. Hoping that Jim didn't "zone-out" in front of the entire group of assorted police and medical personnel.  Jim shook his head and clenched his jaw.

            "What, Jim?  Did you get something?"  Blair steered his eyes away from the chaotic scene.  He tried to decipher his partner's expression, but was coming up short.

            "I smell _you in here, Sandburg.  You're sure _you_ didn't come in this morning?"_

            "C'mon Jim.  I think that I would have remembered something like that.  I got coffee at the cart by the station, not here.  I was here two, maybe three days ago.  There's no way you can smell that.  I shower, you know." Blair's attempt at levity fell flat.  The detective's stoic expression told Blair that he had already stopped listening.   Jim's face betrayed none of the activities he was sure to be experiencing, trying to determine what actually happened here.

            Blair sighed, there was no way that he was going to get those finals graded by tonight.  Today was going to be a long day, he could just tell.

Section 12:

            It was around noontime when I finally made my way to the University campus.  I had purposely taken an indirect route so I could begin to get acclimated to my new home.  The campus bustled with students, some walking in small groups, others spread out on the lawn, hoping to get in some last-minute cramming.  There were only two days left of exams.  I didn't need to proctor any exams until two o'clock, so I went in search of a place to sit down.  

            The student union was curiously unpopulated.  I made my way to the student lounge and sat in an overstuffed chair near to the television.  Maybe I could catch the end of the news before plodding off in search of the Earth Science building.  I opened up my bag to pull out the remnants of the bagel I had saved from the morning.  To my surprise, I found a gray tee shirt that I was sure was not mine.  I must've stuffed one of Blair's shirts into my bag in my rush to get out earlier today.

            I stared in disbelief at the television as a female reporter stood in front of the donut shop I had breakfast in this morning.  Police and ambulances were everywhere.  The sign "The Donut Hole" still blinked cheerfully in the corner of the screen.  Then, Blair's roommate, Jim, started talking with the reporter.  The horror of the situation was etched into his face as he stood next to the reporter.  " Detective James Ellison, Cascade Police Department, Major Crimes Division" flashed below him on the screen.  I quickly turned up the sound as Blair actually stepped up behind the detective.   "…Unknown number of gunmen were involved in holding 30 patrons of this establishment hostage while taking approximately 400 dollars from the register at 11:00 this morning.  An employee was shot and killed.  The name will be withheld until the family can be notified…"

            "Any suspects, Detective?"  the reporter pressed.

            "I'm sorry, that's all we have right now.  The department will issue a formal statement at four o'clock this afternoon.  Thank you."  The detective stepped back away and faded into the chaos behind the reporter.  Blair stood out by himself for one second more and then was also swallowed up by the scene.  _Blair's a cop?_  That would certainly explain some of those violent images I saw.

            "That's all from here.  We will bring you any additional news as we receive it.  Back to you in the studio, Warren."  The scene changed back to the news anchors and I switched off the set.

            I sat back heavily in my chair, the crushing weight of guilt keeping me from taking a deep breath.  _Shit, I could've done something_.  I should've done something.  Maybe then that girl would be alive.  I knew she was going to die and I did nothing about it. That's about as bad as killing her myself.  I held back a sob from deep within me.  Maybe I should go to the police.  What the hell good would that do?  What am I supposed to do, go in and say "Hey, I wasn't there, but I saw what happened today at the donut shop.  I'm psychic, you know."  _Psycho_ would be more like it. That will be the last thing I'll say before the haul my ass off to jail or to the Psych. ward at County Hospital.  I stood up and willed myself to walk normally out of the union and back out into the warm air.  I forced the debate raging in my mind to shut up.  There's nothing more to do, she's dead, and the time for prevention had passed.

            I walked slowly to the Earth Sciences building for the ANTH 101: _Introduction to Anthropology_ final I was supposed to proctor.  The world seemed out of focus.  The normalcy of campus life occurring around me seemed to be a mockery of what had transpired at the donut shop.  How can everyone act so normally when someone just _died?  This kind of thing had never happened to me before.  I always had flashes of the past, never the future.  There was never anything for me to do but observe and try to understand what happened in those visions.  How was I supposed to know that it really was going to happen?  How was I supposed to know?_

Section 13:

            Jim and Blair stayed at the scene for more than two hours in the desperate attempt to come up with some leads.  Jim was still plagued by the sense that something was not right here, besides the obvious.  They were extremely thorough; no clues remained which would help direct the investigation.   _Why would these gunmen waste their time and energy on this joint?  Unless… unless they were only practicing for the real thing. _ Jim's mind raced through upcoming events that would require highly-skilled operatives to disrupt police security.  He couldn't come up with anything off-hand, but the idea warranted some checking once he and Blair got back to the precinct.  

            Jim looked over at his partner, who still had a distinct shade of green coloring his complexion.  Jim smiled.  "Hey, Chief, what do you say to getting out of here?"

            "I say hell, yeah, man!"  Blair's face brightened at the prospect of leaving this place of terror and death. 

            Jim stopped to speak with Claire, but didn't have anything really to add to her investigation.  "Claire, did your boys come up with anything else, anything we can use?"

            "My _people could find nothing more than this."  She held up a small plastic bag containing what seemed to be cloth fibers.  "These were stuck in the hinges of the door.  They could've been from anyone, anytime.  We're grasping at straws here, Jim.  Did you find anything?"_

            "Let me see those fibers."  Jim opened up the baggie and sniffed gently.  "Hmm, gun powder residue.  That's got to be from our gunmen.  From the strength of the smell, I'd say that these fibers were near to a gun recently fired, military issue.  There's a base in the gunpowder that only the Armed Forces use.  Maybe, we're not grasping at straws after all."  Jim's hopes were raised a little bit.  He glanced over at Blair who had a strange expression on his face.  Jim looked at Blair with a questioning look  "What?"

            "How…how could you tell all that by just smelling those fibers?"  Claire asked, incredulous.  Her eyes were wide with suprise.

            Blair stepped in, ready with one of his obfuscations.  "Jim was in Special Forces.  He was exposed to a lot of military issued weaponry and could detect it a mile away."  Jim realized he had said too much earlier and just nodded with Blair's misdirection. 

            "I see.  You must have a very sensitive nose.  Thanks for the information, but you'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it."  She had slipped easily back into scientist-mode.  She dismissed Jim's analysis as pure suggestion.  _The scene was full of gunmen, a gun had gone off in the vicinity, the detective just jumped to conclusions_.  She nodded to herself, happy with her logical explanation of Jim's display of impossible skills. 

            Blair turned to Jim, frustration evident in the set of his jaw.  "What the hell was that, man?  You should know better than to use your skills to show off for the head of forensics.   She might start asking questions that you know we can't answer!  I'll be in the truck."  He stormed away from the surprised detective.

            "I thought you wanted me to use my skills, Chief."  Jim said to the air where his partner used to be.  

Jim was about to follow his partner out to the truck when something fluttering in the wake of Blair's hasty exit caught his eye.  He stopped a forensics technician walking by and relieved him of his tweezers and a small evidence bag.  He bent down to the edge of the table at the first booth by the door.  One black hair waved up at him.  Jim smiled.   _Finally, some evidence the forensic team had missed_.  _At least now he had something to tell the Captain._  _Somewhere to start from._

Section 14:

            Utter shock had propelled me through the exam and I numbly accepted finished exams at the end of the three hours.  The earlier scene I had flashed on before entering the donut shop and Jim's description of the scene after the shooting ran on an infinite loop in my head.  I practically threw my pile of exams into the head proctor's hands in my attempt at escape.  His look of surprise was wasted as I was already out the door.  I was afraid to let myself go anymore, to feel anything about anyone.  What if this happened again?  How could I live with myself? 

            I nearly jumped out of my own skin when someone tapped me on the shoulder.  I whipped around and saw Blair looking at me with those intense eyes.  I didn't know if I should be angry with him for lying to me or indifferent because he really didn't owe me anything.

            "Hey, Max.  How did the exam go?"  Blair tried to get a conversation started, but I didn't respond as I began walking away.  Students rushed around us like everything was all right with the world.  Life continued as if nothing happened.

            "That bad, huh?  I know how draining those things can be, especially if those undergraduates keep asking a million questions…" He followed me as if I really was having a conversation with him.

            He didn't seem to notice that I was ignoring him.  I started to walk a little faster, hoping he'd get the hint and go away.  I couldn't face him, it was just a painful reminder of _what I hadn't done.  "Hey, Max, wait up.  Are you trying to get rid of me or something?"  He asked lightly, hoping for an equally light response.  _

            I stopped short and he ran into me.  "You want to talk, Blair? We'll talk, then."  I began with a tangible edge of venom in my voice.  His mouth promptly clamped shut.  My expression softened as I realized that I was taking my frustration and anger out on him and that wasn't fair.  _Give him a chance to pull his own ass out of the fire first.  Maybe later._

            I turned and faced him.  I purposely stood within inches of him, invading his "comfort zone".  "Look, Blair, I'm sorry to be rude, but I've had a really long day and I'm tired.  Maybe we can continue this conversation later."  _There, I saw his expression lighten up a bit.  He didn't think it was him who caused my foul mood anymore.  __Great.  _

            "Okay then.  Call me later, maybe we can go for a cup of coffee or something."  He flashed me that brilliant smile of his and walked away.  The black cloud that descended over me had just signed on for another tour of duty_.  How was I ever going to deal with this blood on my hands?_

Section 15:

            Jim slumped down in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head.  He was trying to shut out the visions and _odors_ swirling around in his head. The usual bustle of the bullpen was not helping matters any.  A lot of things at that scene just did not add up.  The smell of the military-grade gunpowder residue and something very familiar.  He just couldn't shake the feeling that he had experienced some sort of déja-vu at the scene.  _How did the dark-haired college student fit into the murder and robbery?  She was there two hours before the gunmen arrived, but had asked if the coffee shop had ever been robbed before.  Was she casing the joint and was careless with her comments?  Did she know anything or was it just a giant coincidence?_  He did find the evidence to place the person the clerk had seen at the scene, like that was really in question, though.  He needed something more, something decisive to lead him to the gunmen. 

 Not in all the years that Jim had gone there for an early morning java and buttermilk glazed donut had that shop ever been even robbed.  _Hell, even trouble-magnet Blair hadn't managed to burn himself on the coffee or choke on one of his bran muffins.  Why there?  Why shoot the clerk for a lousy four hundred dollars?  To make an example of her…. for what?  Jim had a feeling that it wasn't just to keep the hostages in line.  __The gunmen let them all go after only about ten minutes.  No one outside had even noticed until it was all over.  It all seemed too well-practiced, too smooth for a small job.  These three had to be pro's, out for what?  Was this a training mission?  An initiation of some sort? The lack of physical evidence, the high caliber, military-style weapon used, and the ease of escape all pointed to a well-orchestrated operation.  It seemed that this college girl and the witnesses were the only leads he had to work from at the moment.  So much for heightened senses.  Where the hell was that sketch artist anyway? _

Section 16:

            Blair was surprised by the cold shoulder routine that he had received from Max earlier in the afternoon.  He had thought that after the _show and the kiss that morning that things between them were proceeding in the right direction.  She seemed very disturbed and distracted, kind of how Jim got when he felt guilty about something.  _Ah, maybe that was it_.  __Maybe she had rethought her actions this morning and this was her way of backing off.  Well, he'd let her proceed at her own pace.  Meanwhile, he'd have to pick up those last exams from his office and drop off final grades for the two sections of his class that he had managed to finish.  She did say that she was proctoring one more exam, ANTH 104.  Maybe he'd just offer to help proctor that exam, too.  That way he'd have a reason to see her and maybe talk to her without too much pressure._

            He walked back over to the Earth Sciences Building, where all the anthropology finals were being held today.  That building had the largest lecture hall so many sections of the classes could take their finals simultaneously.  Makes sense for the proctors, but not for the graders.  Every time a final was finished, he was inundated with mounds of exams.  Luckily, he and the other TA's had decided that they would only grade one part of the exams each. Thus, saving mental energy but increasing the boredom factor exponentially.  He got stuck with the essay portion because he missed the meeting to be at the station.  He hoped that Jim appreciated all the sacrifices he made in the name of the police department.  He probably wouldn't have been able to finish the finals in time to go camping anyway.  _Okay, enough of the poor Blair thoughts_.  He sighed as he neared his destination.  

Section 17:

            _Okay, so I was rude to Blair.  Okay, really rude.  But that doesn't mean that I have to apologize to him, does it?  That's a rhetorical question_.  I was a little bit surprised when he walked into the lecture hall in which the last final I was proctoring was being held.  He glanced around, I hoped it was to see if I was there.  The guilt I felt over the shooting was now compounded with the awful way that I had treated Blair.  I resolved to talk to him after the exam.  At least that was something that I could fix.

            I blushed slightly as I thought about what I had done at his place this morning_.  Had it only been this morning? I had given him a show that I usually reserved for the fourth or fifth date.  The kiss, well that was a bit premature also.  Somehow I thought that he didn't seem to mind.  I started to pass out the pile of exams to the students in my section.  Hope and frustration dueled on each one of their faces.  __Soon, it would all be over.  I tried to project in my smile of reassurance to the students.  At least this kept me from thinking about… what happened._

            I finished passing out my pile of exams and migrated towards the rear of the room.  I leaned against the back wall of the large lecture hall, barely filled half-full with students.  The back of the room was dimly lit and served my purposes of retreat quite well.  I would check on my group of students every now and then.  But in between those times, I wanted to think.   I looked up from my musings and saw Blair winding his way through the aisles towards my hiding place.  He waited to catch my eye before smiling slightly.  I hoped he could tell I wasn't in the best of moods.  _Very perceptive, Blair._

            I leaned against the wall again, debating whether or not I was glad that he didn't give up so easily.  I was having a very hard time dealing with what happened and a chat with a friend might help.  Even if he _had_ lied to me.   Blair sidled up next to me, leaning against the same wall, not three inches away from my shoulder.  I thought I could feel his body heat radiating towards me.  Sure the attraction was there, but where do you draw the line for trust?

            "Max, I think we need to talk."  Blair started.

            "I know.  There are a couple of things I think we need to get straight before anything else."  I looked at the floor.  Suddenly, my shoes became quite attention-grabbing.  Blair put his finger under my chin and slowly pushed my chin up so I was looking into his eyes.

            "As soon as this exam's over."  He ran his hand down my cheek lightly and walked away.  

            I continued to stand, somewhat stunned by what had just transpired.  Maybe I wasn't the only one with psychic abilities. Maybe I wasn't as alone in this as I thought.  Maybe Blair _could_ help me.  

            The exam couldn't be over fast enough for me.  All of a sudden I was now bursting to tell Blair what had happened to me_.  All of this time of hiding my abilities, why the sudden switch?  I was very curious about that answer myself.  The exam finally ended and Blair led me outside and into the sunlight._

Section 18:

            "Okay, I'm here, you're here.  What did you need to talk to me about?"  Blair asked, a little more desperately than he had wanted to convey.  Max had a look on her face that he couldn't quite place, a mix of frustration, desperation, and something else, fear maybe, but he knew he never wanted to see that look ever again.

            "Blair, you're going to think that this is absolutely the strangest thing you've ever heard.  I'm not crazy and I hope that you'll speak to me after I tell you what I'm going to tell you…." she started all in a rush.  All sorts of things flew around in Blair's head, _she is really crazy and I'll somehow end up in a situation that only Jim could rescue me out of…No, not all of the women I'm interested in have to be crazy or mixed up in some kind of international spy ring or something.  Hear her out, it can't hurt._

            "Blair, I _saw the gunmen in the donut shop this morning.  I saw them shoot that poor clerk, Gail.  I heard him yelling to the customers to get down.  That man's voice will remain with me forever…"_

            "What?!  You were there?  How did you get out with no one noticing you?  Why didn't you go the police?"  Blair practically screamed at her.  A few passing students slowed down and glared at him as they walked by. He lowered his voice and continued.  "Did you notice anything else?  Anything else that could help the police determine why this happened?"  

            "Blair, you didn't let me finish.  I saw all of this at 9:00 this morning, just after I left your loft.  There's a little more to this story than you think.  This is the crazy part that I warned you about."  She took his hands and led him to a bench underneath a few oak trees.  The constant stream of students seemed to have dried up for now.  Blair only heard the wind rustling the leaves of the trees above him and the pounding of his heart.  The sun played lightly on the ground beneath his feet.  The world did not seem to reflect the turmoil that he felt inside him.  He knew what he was about to hear could be as strange as what he told Jim when he first met him.

            She took a slow breath in and exhaled just as slowly. She seemed to be gathering her courage; something that Blair was extremely familiar with after so many years of working with Jim.  She continued to hold his hands as she looked into his eyes.  "Okay, Blair, I'm just going to come right out and tell you.  I've never told this to anyone ever before and it will certainly color your impression of me."  She seemed to be stalling.  Blair also knew from experience that this tactic rarely made the telling any easier.

            "Max, you know that I will listen to anything that you have to say and reserve all judgment as best I can."  He gave her his best reassuring smile that he could, hoping that it would prompt her to come out and tell him what was so obviously bothering her so profoundly.

            "Okay, okay, I know that I'm stalling.  Here goes…." She swallowed and began the telling of a story that even Blair would find difficult to accept.

Section 19:

            Jim sat back for the hundredth time in his chair and ran through the facts one more time.  Two many loose ends waved back at him, mocking him.  The press conference was very short.  Captain Banks had not wanted to give the press too much information, as he was afraid that it would bring out too many kooks and copycats from the woodwork.  Jim had to agree, there was never any love lost between the press and him.  He had spent some time running down useless and long-shot leads.  The forensics department was having trouble identifying the powder residue components and probably wouldn't be able to until the next day.  He sighed and glanced at the clock.  The hands showed it was 7:00 p.m.  _It's getting late._  _Time to go home.  Maybe something will come to me there. _

He didn't remember the ride home but pulled into the parking lot for his building just the same as usual.  He unconsciously listened for Blair's heartbeat and found it inside the loft.  _Good, maybe Blair will have some insight.  He stopped short.  __Someone else was in the apartment.  That thought alone propelled him up the four flights of stairs and just in front of the door of his loft.  He closed his eyes and listened.  Blair was speaking at an even tone and his heartbeat was steady, if not a little fast.  _Okay, a little over the top.   He's fine, stop acting like a mother hen all the time, he's okay_.  He took a few deep breaths in order to slow his own pounding heart and ragged breath.  He put his key into the lock and sauntered in like he had all the time in the world._

"Hey there, Chief.  Hard day with those coeds, huh?"  Jim asked lightly as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.  Blair looked up and nodded towards him as he took a long swig from his beer bottle.  "Oh, hi, Max, was it?"  Jim asked although he remembered her quite vividly from this morning.  Something tickled in the back of his mind, but he dismissed it as hunger.  She nodded and smiled at him as she continued to chew the last remains of what Jim detected as a tuna sandwich.  

Jim noticed that the both of them had slightly flushed complexions and their heartbeats were somewhat elevated, like they also had just run up all the stairs.  He took another swallow from his beer and sat down on the couch, hoping to relax and somehow divine some insight into this case.

"Uh, Jim.  There's something Max told me that I think that you should hear.  It's about the donut shop murder…"  Jim didn't even let him finish his sentence as he practically leapt over the back of the couch and faced the two of them at the table.  Just then, that little something that had been gnawing at the back of his mind raced to the forefront.  

"It was you.  You were there at the donut shop this morning."  He turned to Blair.   "That's why you seemed to be there, Chief.  It was her hair that I found!"  Jim stepped closer and studied Max's face.  An increase in her breathing and heart rate and the dilation of her pupils told the Sentinel all that he wanted to know.  He was right.

"Okay, Jim.  That's right, but that's only part of the story.  Max, tell Jim what you just told me about the gunmen you saw."  Blair said calmly.  Jim was livid, he started to clench and unclench his jaw.

"Maybe we should take this downtown.  If you have information about this case, I want the Captain to hear it too."  Jim started towards his jacket and put his keys back in his pocket.

"Uh, Jim.  You will want to hear this first before we bring in Simon.  It's a bit unusual and may be a little hard to explain to other people."  Blair looked down at his feet.  _Never a good sign, when Blair was afraid to look up when he spoke.  Great, something else for Simon to glower at the pair over._

"Okay, Chief.  Let me have it.  What have you got?"  _I'm almost afraid to ask_.

Section 20:

            "I know this is going to sound a bit crazy.  Probably a lot crazy.   I never talked about this with anyone before Blair.  Let's all please sit down at the table, if you don't mind.  I think that a little demonstration may help to argue my case."  They both followed me to the kitchen. Okay, so I was stalling again.  _How do I tell Blair's partner this preposterous story when I wasn't even sure if Blair believed me?  _

            "I don't mean to interrupt, but do you have any information about the case?  I'm all out of options right now and I need something to go on."  Jim sat back and waited for my response.  Blair just continued to look at me, waiting for me to begin.

            I drew in a long breath and blew it out slowly out of my mouth.  "Jim, would you mind giving me your hand for a minute?"  

            "What does this have to do with the case?"  He started to protest as he looked over at Blair.  Blair nodded, almost imperceptibly.  Jim slid his hand into mine, his jaw set in frustration.

            I grasped his hand firmly and closed my eyes.  

A crush of feelings overwhelmed me, like an ocean wave after a hurricane.  So much there, so much I couldn't understand.  This wasn't like the silent movie trailers that I was used to.  It was in full color and sound.  But of course that didn't mean it made any more sense to me than the others.  __

_A young boy sits next to his little brother in a living room.  A stern-looking man talks down to them saying, "Jim…Stephen…your mother…not coming home any more…."  The young boy didn't hear much more after that, but a sinking feeling of loneliness and desperation overcomes him.  _

A _flood of panic and seas of green rush by as this young man thinks of his family and of death.  Then the darkness and stillness engulfs everything.  The realization that he isn't dead and not being quite sure what to do next are the next in succession.  Army training and a sense of duty take over, emotions are buried and forgotten.  A man worthy of respect shows this young man direction, how to handle himself in his new surroundings.  So there is no loss of control. A large black cat bursts out of the forest and into a clearing._

_The face of a woman who helped him to resume his life. His normal life here.  He struggles to find a place among the people.  He is more than us, more than he even realizes.  Suppression leads to control.  She doesn't stay very long.  His job helps to keep in him in the here and now.  Grounded and in control._

_A young and reckless man breaks into Jim's efforts at control and calm.  How dare he propose to help?  It was Blair._

           At that point I broke my contact with Jim.  I had seen entirely much more than I had wanted or even intended.  I felt like an interloper into Jim's consciousness.  And I hadn't even been trying.  I had hoped to gather just a few strong impressions to prove to Jim that I was telling the truth.  I sat back in my chair and opened my eyes.  

           Jim and Blair stared at me incredulously.

           "What the _hell just happened?"  There was a bite of anger in Jim's voice._

           "I…I'm not quite sure what to say, Jim.  What happened on your end?  Did you see everything I saw?"

           "What are you talking about?  What just happened?"  Blair hunched over the table, just inches away from my face.  He stared directly into my eyes.  I broke eye contact and refocused again on Jim.

           "It was if I was watching a home movie of my own life but I wasn't controlling it.  Things from my past that I haven't thought about in years…" Jim's voice trailed off as I presumed he was visiting those places in his mind once again.  As I studied Jim's face, a wave of vertigo and nausea passed over me.  I got up and stumbled over to the bathroom and promptly lost my dinner.

           I heard Blair talking to Jim about something.  I heard Jim's voice raised and Blair's over his trying calm him down.  I sat down on the hard tile floor and rested my head against the sink's pedestal.  The coolness helped to center me again.  _Wow, that's certainly never happened before.  A lot has never happened before…before Blair and Jim._

           The bathroom floor suddenly felt so much more comfortable as I stretched my arms over my head and blinked my eyes.  I suddenly realized that I wasn't in the bathroom anymore.   I was in Blair's bed, covered by blankets.  I glanced at the windows.   It was dark outside.   My hand went up to explore the wet feeling on my head.   I had a washcloth on my forehead.  "Blair?  Are you here?"

           "Hmmm?  Yeah..I'm here."  A dark figure unfurled itself from a chair in the corner of the room.  He walked over and laid his hand on my head.  "How are you feeling?"

           "Tired."  I sat bolt upright and registered that this wasn't normal.  "Uh, Blair, what happened?  How did I get here?"

           Blair took my hand and sat down next to me on the bed.  "After the 'reading' you did for Jim, you just turned green and ran to the bathroom.  Next thing we found you on the floor passed out.  Has that ever happened to you before?"

           "No, never.  Of course a lot of things lately have never happened to me before."  I slid back down to a semi-reclining position.

           "What do you mean?"  Blair edged closer to me on the bed.  

           "You know how I told you about the 'flashes' I sometimes got from people?  Usually they were of pretty emotionally-charged incidences or something recent, still fresh in their minds.  Never was I able to see the _future, __hear anything in these flashes, or …..__see what I did with Jim.  What the hell is happening to me?"  I closed my eyes and swallowed, hoping by the time that I opened my eyes again, everything would be back to normal.  Blair held my hand and waited._

           "What did you see?"


	2. Chapter II

Section 21:         

           Blair, half expecting her to tell him all about Jim's senses, half expecting her to tell him nothing that made any sense at all, waited for her to answer.  _Does she have a link with Jim that lets her into his mind, into his psyche, into places that I can't go, not without dragging it out of Jim?  Am I jealous of this?  Of her?  _She pushed herself up to a sitting position and scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

           "I'm not sure of anything, Blair.  I can't _explain what I saw, I can only tell you __what I saw.  Only Jim can interpret those images.  I can tell you one thing though, this kind of thing has never happened to me before.  I usually only have snatches of visions, no sound, no explanations, only emotions.  With Jim, I felt, __really felt what was going through his mind during the instances I saw.  I could hear, see, touch, smell, even taste what was going on around me.  It was _amazing_, Blair.  Jim is definitely more than the average person.  That's about the only thing that I _can_ tell you. Hmm..."" She leaned back against the wall again._

           "What's wrong?  Feeling bad again?"  Blair took the washcloth off of her head to rinse it out in cool water again.

           "I always get these huge migraines after a particularly intense flash, but God_, please take me now.  I think I'm going to have an aneurysm or something.  Blair, give me your hand."  She placed his hand on her forehead.  He could almost swear to feeling the pounding under the skin._

           She sighed lightly.  "You make it better, Blair.  You must come from a long line of healers.  I see that in you.  I hope you won't mind me borrowing your bed for a little while longer.  I think that I'll feel better after a nap.  Thanks for everything Blair."  She leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly.  She returned to her semi-reclining position and started to drift off.  Her eyes opened again, slightly.  "Oh, and tell Jim that that black cat of his keeps following him around because he's not finished with whatever's he's supposed to do.  I'll tell him more about the coffee shop when I wake up.  Tell him not to worry, things will work out…"

Section 22:

           _Not to worry, not to worry.  _How the hell could she say that? Simon and the Chief will be on me about this case if I don't come up with something soon.  _Jim overheard part of Max's conversation with Blair and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch.  Blair slowly walked out of his bedroom and quietly closed the doors behind him.  _

            "Did you hear what she said, Jim?…Of course you did.  Anyway, you should have something soon."  Blair sighed and sat down at the table.

            "I knew it as soon as I saw her, Sandburg, that she was going to be an intense one.  If we only knew what we were getting into."

            "Jim, Jim.  When do we ever get an easy one?  Did you catch what she said about the jaguar, man?  That was wild.  She really picked up a lot about you, didn't she?"

            "Yeah, yeah, she knew everything.  What did you tell her about me?"  Jim's cynical side was beginning to emerge.

            "C'mon, Jim.  I didn't coach her, if that's what you mean.  I only told her that you were my roommate and you weren't too fond of noise in the middle of the night.  I didn't tell her anything about more about you, especially when she told me what she _saw_ today at the coffee shop."

            "She already told _you about what she saw?"  Jim was incredulous.  Usually, Blair was always bursting to tell him everything he knew, especially something as weird as this whole situation was.  "All right, spill it, Chief.  The Captain's not going to believe this, but what the hell?  We already have him believing that whole _Sentinel_ thing, what's another psychic phenomenon to the seasoned occult follower like Simon?"_

            "I know Simon's not going to jump into this, but it's one of the only leads that we have, isn't it?  I know you found some trace evidence at the scene, but she's an eye-witness.  You can't beat that."

            "That's just it, Sandburg.  She's not an eye-witness.  She's a _mind-witness_, if that's what you're going to tell me she told you.  How do we know that she doesn't think of possible scenarios after she hears about most of the situation on the news?"   Jim sat down hard on the couch, seething with frustration.

            "Do you really believe that she made of this stuff up? Even after what you went through before?"

            "There are many people who are good at reading others.  Maybe I was just reliving those memories on pure suggestion.  Those people who work on the Psychic Hotlines do that kind of thing, for example.  I guess I'll make up my mind when she wakes up."  Jim could almost hear Blair beginning to rebut his argument.  Jim held up his hand before Blair uttered a word.

            "Later, Chief.  I need to get out of here for a while and do some legwork on the case.  I'll be in Forensics.  I want to know if Claire and her bunch have found anything else.  Say goodbye to Sleeping Beauty for me."  Blair watched as Jim slammed the front door behind him.

Section 23:

            Blair knew that Jim was reaching the boundary between his suspension of disbelief threshold and his threshold of reason.  He knew Jim well enough to know when to stop pushing him to come around.  _Better to just let Jim think about things for a while and try again later.  He pulled out some papers that he should have graded last week and half-heartedly began going through them.  Luckily, it was a short answer exam and did not require much interpretation or attention.  He'd get to these tests for a while and then he'd check on Max.  __Jim had to come back sometime and he knew that the Forensics team wasn't going to find anything more.  _If Jim couldn't find anything, they certainly weren't going to_.  His thoughts drifted to Jim's behavior earlier in the evening.  He had acted as if he resented Max's being here.  He fervently hoped Jim hadn't developed a kind of strange reaction to Max's presence like he had when Alex had come onto the scene.  He mentally shivered at that thought.  He would have to keep a close eye on Jim for the near future, at least.  __At least until this case was over and they could all go back to their regularly-scheduled lives.  _

            Several hours passed with no phone call from Jim and no sign of consciousness from Max. His exams were all starting to run together and he rubbed his eyes in an effort to refocus them.  Blair needed to take a break for his eyes' sake and for the sake of the students who deserved a fair shot at failing the exam.  He laughed to himself_.  Now I know that I need a break.  Next thing, I'll be talking to myself._

_            He got up and walked slowly over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.  He screwed off the top and quickly drank the first third before it could overflow onto the floor__.  Ah, that was better. The rest of the exams would have to wait until morning.  He was bushed and could not even think about looking at another exam.  He looked blearily at his watch and noticed that it said 12:30 a.m.!  _Where the hell was Jim anyway?  He's been gone for hours!_  He decided to check on Max and then give Jim a few more minutes to come in.  If he didn't come back in fifteen minutes, he would call Jim's cell phone and see what his plans were for the night._

            Blair crept over to his bedroom door and slowly opened it.  A beam of light from the kitchen fell on her head as she lay sleeping in his bed.  _A man could get used to that_.  He stepped closer to hear if she was breathing okay and noticed that she was crying in her sleep.  He leaned over and shook her awake.

            "Max, Max.  Wake up, you're having a bad dream."

Section 24:  

            Someone was calling my name and it ripped me out of my strange dream.  I opened my eyes and saw Blair's looking back at me, full of concern.  "Mmmm?"

            "Max, it's me, Blair.  Are you okay?"

            "Yeah, hmm..  I'm fine."  I was about to fall back to sleep when some scenes from my dream poked out into my conscious mind.  I rolled over and watched as Blair stood up from sitting on the edge of the bed and began walking towards the door.  "Blair?"

            "Yes, Max?"  He stopped and turned to face me.  I could just barely make out his features in the dark.

            "Where's Jim?"

            "I'm not sure, why?"

            "I'm not sure either.  Can you help me up?"

            "Yeah, here."  He pulled my hand until I was in a sitting position and helped me swing my legs over the bed and onto the floor.  "What's wrong?  Is something wrong with Jim?"

            "I don't remember.  Something's jabbing at me though.  Something important….Ugh!" We shuffled over to the couch.  The pain in my head was now just below a dull roar.

            "What?"

            "I can't remember.  I know it's important, but dammit!  I can't remember!" 

            "Okay.  We can do this.  Now, Max?"

            "What?"

            "I want you to sit here on the couch and close your eyes.  Do you trust me?"

"Of course."  It slipped out before I could even think about answering that question.  I barely knew him.  "What do you need me to do?"

"When Jim gets into this situation and needs to remember something maybe he didn't know he knew, I help him relax and review through a process I call_ assisted recall_.  It's sort of like a very light trance.  It relaxes you enough so you are able to access memories that you may not normally have access to.  I learned it from a shaman in a region near Potosi, Bolivia a couple of years ago.  It's very safe and I've done it many times.   I can't make you do anything that you don't want to._  We can stop anytime you feel uncomfortable or we don't have to do it at all.  It's up to you."  I could detect a bit of concern or desperation in his voice, so I conceded.  I knew it had to do something with Jim and Blair seemed to be fiercely protective of his friend._

"Okay, Blair.  Let's try it.  I guess I don't really have anything to lose, right?"

"Okay.  You let me know if you feel weird or anything."

"How do you define 'weird'?"

"Trust me.  If anything seems weird to you, you'll know."

"Let's do it."

Section 25:

            Jim had been getting strange sensations all evening and he just let them lead him around the city.  He hadn't had any particular plans after he left Forensics.  He probably should have called Blair to let him know what was going on, but he wanted to let Blair know that he was still pissed.  Forensics had told him that they still couldn't identify the substance found on the fibers or the hair found at the crime scene. The Forensics team had decided that the material on the fibers was probably custom-made and would have to be identified molecule by molecule. Of course _he_ knew to whom the hair belonged, but he wasn't ready to give her up yet.  That wouldn't get him any closer to the real suspects.  However, why did he discount her so fast as part of this whole thing?  _Blair usually had good instincts, but not when it came to women.  He usually bats zero in that department. _  Jim grabbed himself some late dinner from his favorite burger joint and drove around a bit more, trying to find some insight into the motive in this case.  He let his mind wander as he drove, going back and forward, not really spending any length of time on any particular subject.   He tried to remember what it was like to have Jack Pendergrast as a partner.  Jack was a traditionalist, following the regulation book like it was the _Bible_.  Simon paired them up in an effort to give Jim some direction and stability.  When Jack disappeared, it took all of Jim's willpower not to drop everything and look for him.  He knew, _knew_, that Jack wasn't dirty.  He couldn't have been, even when they found Jack's car with all that money in the trunk.  But, Jack _had been dirty.  Jack tried to keep the ransom money for himself, something to retire on.  That moment showed Jim that he could only depend on himself; everyone else could only let him down.  Things followed like that until Blair changed his mind…_

            Then it hit him.  _Something wasn't right with the witness.  How did that kid just happen to be in the back at the time of the shooting?  He missed everything?  Okay, it _was_ possible that he happened to be in the back during the whole incident.  How come he didn't call the cops when he first heard the commotion?  Too scared?  _He thought he'd seen a phone jack in the back room_.  Why didn't the gunmen check the back room for stowaways?  That sure was lucky for the kid.  What was his name?  __Daniel Waters.  __There was something about him that was a little too practiced, a little too convenient.  He would have to talk to him again in the morning.  _

            His mind wandered again.  His army training had prickled the back of his mind during all of this.  Maybe Blair's little obfuscation about the fibers wasn't too far off.  Something about it was familiar somehow.  He still couldn't make any hard connections.  Maybe something would come to him when he wasn't thinking about it.  He turned right and proceeded towards Center Street and home.  The street was practically empty as he turned onto Prospect Drive.  He glanced at his dashboard clock and saw that it was practically midnight.  He slowed down to a stop at a red light and continued to think.

            The light blinked to green and he began to depress the clutch and the gas when he thought he heard the cocking of a gun.  That small _snick_ gave him only the slightest warning before the window of his truck shattered against him.  Then, only pain and blackness.

Section 26:

            Blair sat Max in front of him on the couch as he sat perched on the edge of the coffee table. _Jim would have a fit if he knew I was sitting on the coffee table.  _Focus, focus_.  _

            "Max?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Are you comfortable?"

            "I'm fine.  What do I do now?"

            "Okay.  Take my hands.  Just let them lay on mine, don't squeeze them.  Focus on your breathing.  Make sure that you draw in through your nose really slowly and blow out equally slowly through your mouth.  Close your eyes and try not to think about anything in particular.  I want to listen to the sound of my voice. Focus only on that and your breathing.  Nothing else matters."

Section 27:

            I laid my hands in Blair's and closed my eyes.  I saw only the blackness on the inside of my eyelids and focused on my breathing.  I let go of everything and listened for Blair's next instructions.

            "Relax your muscles from your feet all the way up to your head.  Let the tension and stress flow out of you and into the couch like water.  Visualize that process in your head.  Let the water flow around you and through you.   As I count back from ten, you become more and more relaxed.  Ten…nine…eight…seven…six… five…four…three…two…one. 

You are standing in the middle of a beautiful warm lake.  There is a waterfall on your right and the bank of the lake is on your left. You can hear the sounds of the water as it cascades down the mountainside and into the lake around you.  You are calm and relaxed, warm and content.  You are completely open to everything your senses can tell you.  You are open to anything that is trying to reach out to you.  You stay in the lake for a few more moments and inhale the sweet smell of the forest.  You slowly wade towards the bank.  You step out and dry off with a warm fluffy towel. You sit on a blanket on the green, green grass and wait, continuing your deep breathing process.  The sunlight is warm on your head and you feel no tension or fear…..Max?  Can you hear me?"

            I felt lighter and freer than I ever had in my whole life.  The burden of hiding who I was and trying to please others fell from my shoulders and was left to sink to the bottom of the lake.  I was sitting quietly on the shore, comfortable in my own skin.  I didn't want to answer Blair because I didn't want to break this magical spell he had created for me.

"Blair…I can hear you."

            "Are you ready to get up and take a walk?"

            "Yes, that would be okay."

            "Okay.  I want you to slowly rise from your sitting position and walk towards the opening in the trees.  In the field, you can see Jim standing there.  He is trying to tell you something.  Can you hear him?" 

            "Yes."  I couldn't make out Jim's form completely at first, but I could hear his voice very clearly.  "He is telling me that his people are dead.  They all died and he stayed here.  He is lost and looks for guidance.  He asks for help.  He asks for _your_ help, Blair."  Jim looked very clearly at me as I walked closer and closer to him, but still too far away to touch him.  "He's leaving now. Something is troubling him and he wants to find some answers."  Jim turned and looked at the wreckage of a helicopter and then started to walk into the forest.  "I see a helicopter crashed into the ground and many graves."  Then the scene shimmered a bit and I got the impression that I was forward in time from the last scene.  I was lakeside, next to Jim and Simon, both younger than I remembered them.  The feeling was of sadness and anger from Jim about a very respected person.  "I see a car being pulled form the lake.  There's a woman leaving him empty and desolate.  I see two other men who look like Jim following him into the brush.  But you're still here.  You stay.  

I feel something in my hand.  There are words written on a scrap of rough paper that say 'Centremar.'  Jim keeps looking at me as he leaves. I'm crumpling the piece of paper and it drops to the ground.  It turns red as it falls.  The paper disappears into the ground.  Jim's not here anymore either, but he's close."  I pause, waiting for further instructions.

            "Good, good.  Does anyone else have anything to say to you? Remember, nothing's here that can hurt you.  You are not afraid."

            "Another man is here.  I don't recognize him.  He stands in tribal garb and looks at Jim as he leaves.  Jim has a deep respect for this man, like a father.  This man looks at me and asks me to hurry.  He does not speak, but I hear him.  Jim is lost.  A large black panther walks through the clearing but does not see me.  It disappears into the forest after the tribal man.  I am alone again."

            "All right.  I want you to go back to the place by the lake and sit down.  It's time to come home now.   Continue your breathing.  As I count backwards from ten, you will approach closer and closer to home.  When I reach one, you will awake fully refreshed and fully aware of your experiences.

Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three...two…one."  As I hear his words, the beautiful glen I had enjoyed became dimmer and dimmer in my mind's eye.  I opened my eyes and sat back on the couch.

            "Wow.  That was amazing, Blair.  Where did you say you learned to do that?"

            "In Bolivia.  Do you remember what happened?"

            "Every second.  I think that we should find Jim."  I stood up and walked out towards the balcony doors.  "I'm not sure why, but I get the distinct impression that we're supposed to find Jim _now. "_

"I think you're right."  Blair picked up the telephone and dialed the police station.

Section 28:  

            Jim awoke to pain and dizziness.   Darkness surrounded him and sharp lashes of pain sent white-hot streaks through his field of vision.  The world slowed its violent spinning just long enough for him to gain his bearings.  He lay stretched out over the seat of his truck, glass shards covering him and the seat.  He stared at the truck's radio dials and wished that he could control his pain by just reaching out to those dials.   Warm trickling dripped past his eyes and over the seat on onto the floor.  Jim extended his hearing as best he could over his struggle to manage the pain and keep conscious.  He could hear nothing more than normal street sounds.  _I need to call Blair.  That thought played like a broken record as his mind tried to make sense of what happened.  He felt the wind tickle his skin and he smelled the metallic odor of his own blood… and gunpowder.  His ears began to buzz very loudly and he lost all of his wavering focus.  The darkness was too hard to resist…_

Section 29:

            "No, Sandburg.  Jim isn't here.  Isn't he with you?"  Simon grumbled on the phone.  "It's one o'clock in the damn morning.  Why the hell would you call me at this hour?"  

            "Uh, Simon, sorry.  I already called the station and they said he left hours ago.  I just think something's happened to Jim, that's all."

            "That's all?  _That's all?_  And what made you come up with this conclusion, huh?  Maybe he just decided not to check in with you.  You're not his mother and he is a big boy, Sandburg."  Simon's voice was now raised to a bellow.

            "I know, Simon.  Sorry for bothering you.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."

            "Wait, Sandburg. Okay, okay.  I know you two have this _Sentinel _thing_.  If you think he's in trouble, then he probably is.  Let me call the station and put out an APB."_

            "Thanks, Simon.  I'm going out to see if I can find him.  I'll check in with you in a bit."

            "Sandburg, be careful.  I don't want the both of you missing now."

            Blair hung up the phone and sat back on the couch.  Max came back into the living room from pulling on a sweatshirt.  "Anything?"

            "No."  He stood up and walked towards the door.  "I'm going to look for him."

            "I'm coming with you."  

            Blair was too tired and now very worried to argue.  He hoped that all of this was nothing and he would find Jim eating a Wonderburger at the local restaurant.  He hoped but somehow he _knew he wouldn't._

Section 30:

            I climbed into the front seat of Blair's car and had to kick some papers and junk on the floor to make room for my feet.

            "Sorry, I don't usually have ride-alongs.  Jim won't even get near my car, let alone ride in it."

            "It's okay, Blair.  You know what they say about anthropologists and organization…"

            "No, what do they say?"

            "Stop it, Blair."  I playfully squeezed his arm.

            A flash slammed into me.  

            _"I want you out, Sandburg.  Do you hear me?  I don't want you here anymore.  It's too crowded."_

_            "What happened to my stuff, Jim?"_

_            "I put it in the basement.  You can pick it up later."_

_            "If that's what you want, Jim."_

_            "That's what I want."_

_            Jim turned his back on Blair and walked out onto the balcony._

                        I shook my head to dispel the scene.  I wasn't expecting anything like that.  The emotions linked to that short conversation ran so deep that I felt as if _I was the one who Jim had frozen out.  Blair felt like he _betrayed_ Jim.  Jim had kicked Blair out.  I had a strange feeling that it had something to do with that blonde woman I had seen before, but the connection was not clear.  The explanation for that would have to wait.  _

                        "What?  Anything about Jim?"

                        "No. Sorry."  I looked out the window and felt the breeze blow on my face from the window I had opened slightly.  The night looked so peaceful and quiet.  Deceptively so.

                        I felt a little something niggling me from my right side.

                        "Turn right here, Blair."

                        "Why?"

                        "Can't explain.  Just do it."  I let my mind wander as I looked out of the window.  Although the situation was very serious, I couldn't help but begin to drift into sleep.  As my eyes were beginning to close, I noticed a street sign blowing in the slight breeze.   It was partially covered by a branch and it read "Centre Mar".  The branch moved away and the full sign read, "Centre Market."

                        "Blair, stop!"

                        "Centre Market!  The note in my dream was for Centre Market!  Jim's close."

                        "What now?"

                        I turned to Blair and looked into eyes now abundant with worry. "I don't know, Blair.  But he's close, I know it."

Section 31:

                        Pain rewarded him as he tried to open his eyes again.  The lights seemed to burn holes into his retinas as he struggled to focus on something, anything to tell him what was going on.  Memory slowly leaked back into his brain and he remembered what had happened.  He had heard a gun being cocked as he dove for cover and the slow squeal of his brakes at his automatic reflex to stop his vehicle.  A sharp pain in his head and the warm dripping liquid that was running down his head and onto the car seat on which he now lay.  The metallic odor of blood mixed with sweat and adrenaline.  The jagged sound of the glass shattering towards his left and the subsequent rain of small shards of glass that were now embedded into his skin.  His thoughts seemed sluggishly slow and hard to manage and waves of dizziness threatened to send him back into the darkness.  He fought against the urge to close his eyes and tried to look around.  His vantage point from the seat did not offer to many opportunities to determine his position.  He could see the sky and the stars and the roof of the truck.  He could feel the breeze blowing on his skin from the broken window.  He struggled to maintain a normal breathing pattern; he didn't want to pass out again.  He tried to extend his senses outside the truck but he found that his head was buzzing too loud for him to concentrate that much.  He just hoped to hell that Blair had noticed that he was missing and was somehow on his way.

                        He remembered being relieved that he was close to home, so at least he had that.  _Where the hell was Blair?  _He could keep conscious no longer and gave way to the buzzing sound, as it became the only thing he heard_._

            He struggled to find the air, he couldn't breathe.  He sputtered and opened his eyes to the sudden onslaught of sights and sounds he knew he shouldn't be hearing.  Foreign and familiar at the same time.  He flung his arms around in an attempt to stop that infernal buzzing sound and get whatever was preventing him from breathing off his face, _dammit.  _

            "Jim, calm down.  You're at the hospital.  You've been shot.  Let them take a look at you."  He heard Blair's voice rushing by him like a stream.   If he could only catch it, he might be able to get to the surface and breathe.  He followed the waves of pain that surrounding his conscious mind in an attempt to find Blair again.  He blinked his eyes open again and forced himself to stay awake.  He pushed off the oxygen mask and tried to sit up.

            "Jim.  It's okay.  You're going to be okay now."  Blair's voice was ethereal almost.  _Had I died or something?  What the hell happened?  He thought that he heard Blair's heartbeat playing a very staccato tune.  _At least Blair was alive…or he was dead like me.__

Section 32:

            The doctor had said that it was a scalp laceration and they always looked worse than they were.  The doctor actually had said that it they usually bleed like a stuck pig, but Blair really didn't care for that analogy.  Apparently, a bullet had grazed Jim's scalp close enough to cause a concussion and some significant blood loss.  That would explain why Jim seemed so out of it.  Jim needed twenty stitches, oxygen, and IV fluids to help him regain some of his blood volume_.  The doctor said if Jim's blood cell count didn't increase soon, he would need a transfusion.__  If we hadn't found him…don't think about that now.  Jim's going to be fine.  The next order of business was to get with Simon and figure out what happened and why._

                        Simon was pacing in the waiting room as Blair left Jim's bedside.  "Well?"

                        "He'll be fine, Simon.  The bullet grazed his skull.  He has some blood loss and a concussion.  They're going to keep him a few days to get his blood volume back up and to make sure there aren't any lasting neurological problems."

"Great.  Now who did this?"  Simon's intensity seemed to permeate the room.  He actually made Blair a little nervous.

                        "That seems to be the question of the hour."  Blair looked down at his shoes, hoping Simon wouldn't grill him anymore.  _No such luck_.

                        "Here's another question for you.  How the hell did you find him?"

                        "Uh…"

                        "No, don't tell me.  It's one of those _Sentinel things, right?"_

                        "Sort of."

                        "Say no more. I don't think… No, make that I _know_ that I don't want to know."  He took a cigar out of his top pocket and began rolling it between his fingers.  "I need a smoke.  I'll be back in a few minutes.  In the meantime, you get back to Jim and keep me posted.  The Chief'll want an update on Jim's condition.  I'll call Rafe, Brown, and Connor and let them know what's going on.  We'll get to the bottom of this."  He laid his hand on Blair's shoulder.  "Don't worry."

                        "Thanks, Simon.  I'm not worried."  Simon strode out of the Emergency room doors and Blair stared out after him.  _Why did he have the strangest feeling that this was not some random act of violence?…Because it never was with him and Jim.  _

_                        He found Max asleep on a bank of chairs closer to the nurses' station.  He lightly stroked her hair and pulled his jacket over her shoulders.  __She looks so innocent, so beautiful….C'mon, man.  Snap out of it.  Now's not the time for the Dating Game.  _

Max had found Jim's truck askew in the middle of the intersection just in front of Centre Market.  His heart had leapt into his throat when he saw the driver's side window smashed.  He had run to the truck, praying that Jim wasn't in it.  When he saw Jim's form on the seat covered in blood, Blair just about had a heart attack right there.  He had thought,_ 'This is it.  This is what happens to your Sentinel when you don't watch his back. You get him killed'.  Max had opened up the passenger side door and crawled in the cab with Jim.  She felt for a pulse and looked up and nodded when she found one_.  Thank God.  Thank God_. Blair repeated it as a mantra until he could come back to reality.  Blair flipped open his cell phone and called the Cascade EMT, now on speed-dial.  Jim had come to in brief moments and called for him, but faded before Blair could let him know that he was there.  The EMT's did not seem overly concerned about Jim's condition and that helped to ease him a bit.  He sat with Jim in the ambulance and Max had followed in his car._

                        He sat next to Jim after the nurses got him settled onto a regular floor and it was now approaching 6:00 a.m.  He yawned and stretched.  He didn't have the heart to wake Max up again, now snoring lightly on one of those hard plastic chairs she had found in the nearby waiting room.  Her arms were crossed and her head had flopped down so her chin was touching her chest.  He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders for a few minutes and then refocused on Jim.  His color seemed a little better than it was when they brought him in.  He was still deathly pale and that, in itself, probably scared Blair the most.  He hated seeing Jim like that, _vulnerable.  A nurse came in every so often to check his IV and take his blood pressure, but Jim did not stir.  Blair waited patiently for Jim to come back._

Section 33:

                        I slipped down in my chair and almost fell off as I awoke suddenly.  It took a moment for me to realize where I was, but when I saw Blair next to Jim, I remembered.  I sat back on my chair, trying not to disturb Blair who seemed to be praying or meditating.  My headache seemed to be gone for now and I sighed gently.  Blair's eyes shot open and glanced in my direction.

                        "Sorry.  I didn't mean to disturb you.  How's he doing?"

                        "It's okay.  He's sleeping now.  The nurses said to expect him to wake up in a couple of hours.  They'll need to run an MRI to make sure that the swelling in his brain has gone down."

                        "Oh."  _Was that the most intelligent thing I could come up with?  God, I sound like such a complete moron. _ I stood up and walked over to Blair.  I took his hand.  "Blair, I'm so sorry that any of this happened.  I know that Jim'll be okay."  _Fabulous.  Now let the lame cliché games begin._

_                        "He'll be fine.  We've been in worse situations than this before.  Jim always said that __I attracted trouble like a magnet."  Blair turned to look at Jim.  "I guess it was __his turn this time."  Blair was quiet again._

                        "Blair, let me get you a cup of coffee.  I'll check with the nurse and see if she knows when the doctor will be coming.  You'll feel better after you talk with the doctor."  I spoke as I slowly backed out of the room.  Blair responded with a nod and went back to his silent vigil.

                        _Ugh.  I am such an idiot.  Babbling on about the doctor.  He just wanted to be alone with his friend.  I could use some coffee myself.  I saw the tall dark-skinned man striding down the hall with such purpose that I knew that he was _the_ Captain who Blair kept talking about.  I thought that I remembered seeing him on the news the day of the shooting at the coffee shop.  __God, that seems so long ago now.  I stepped out of his way and tried to find the cafeteria._

_                        My head felt as if it were not quite connected to me anymore, like I had just woken up from one of those _Nyquil_-induced comas.  I walked slowly down the white hall as people passed by me, all enclosed in their own little worlds.  _What am I supposed to do now?  __

Section 34:

                        He knew he's had hangovers before, but _God, why the hell did he have a jackhammer going off inside his head?  _He started to stir when he realized that he did not smell scrambled eggs and coffee coming from downstairs, but the sterile, aseptic smell he knew was uniquely Cascade General Hospital.

                        "What happened this time, Chief?"  Jim whispered, surprised by the scratchiness of his voice.  He knew that Blair was there even when he hadn't even opened his eyes.  He could hear the frantic rhythm of Blair's heart valves as they opened and closed a little too quickly.

                        "You were shot."

                        Those words caught his attention as he struggled to find the energy to open his eyes.  He opened his eyes only a slight bit, relieved to see that the lights had been dimmed and then opened his eyes all the way.

                        "Good to see you're awake, Jim.  Man, you had me a bit worried there for a while."

                        "Sure, Sandburg.  They should just reserve that chair for you like a parking space, you spend so much time in it.  But I always wake up, don't I?"

                        "There's always a first time…  I'm glad you're awake anyway.  The doctors have to run a few more tests to see if the swelling has gone down in your brain."

                        "My brain?  I thought you said that I got shot?"

                        "You did, Jim.  In the head."

                        "What?"  He said a little too loudly, causing a chain reaction of reverberations to go off in his head.  He quieted his voice and continued.  "You've got to be kidding.  You don't usually wake up from that."

                        "You were grazed.  It caused a serious concussion and some blood loss.  It was touch and go with you for a bit.  They gave you a transfusion and a lot of fluids.  You probably have one hell of a headache.  You don't remember anything?"

                        "Any other medical information you want to tell me_, Doctor_?  No, I don't remember much.  Only waking up for a minute in the truck and then here."

                        "C'mon, Jim.  I'm not joking.  It was bad.  If we hadn't found you…" Blair never was able to finish that sentence.  "Simon already told the others and they're starting an investigation.  A preliminary report points to a professional sniper.  They found custom-made bullets in the headrest of your truck.  They're trying to run a trace on them now.  Simon said he'd let us know if anything else turns up."

                        "Great. Was anyone else hurt?"

                        "No, just you."  Blair stood up and began to pace around the room.  Jim tried to sit up, but he found that his vision began to flicker and threatened to black out.  "Whoa, Jim."  Blair rushed to his side and gently pushed him back down on the bed.  "No heroic stuff.  You could've been killed.  You need your rest."

                        "Okay, okay."  Truth was he really didn't feel like fighting Blair on this.  His head was killing him and if it weren't for dialing down the pain some, he was sure that he would've been screaming for pain medication.  He felt dizzy and somewhat disconnected and the buzzing sound he had heard before was still in the back of his head.  He just noticed that Blair had stopped talking to him.  His illustrious Guide was sound asleep in the chair, slumped in a rather uncomfortable-looking position_.  All of the events of the past day must have finally surmounted the almost infinite amount of energy the young man seemed to have.  Jim sighed, leaned back into his pillow and wished that he could have prevented all of this.  If not for this roaring headache he sported, but for all of the anguish he continually caused his best friend.  He looked towards the door as a flash of movement caught his eye.  It was a reflection in the glass of the open door to his hospital room.  He saw that girl, Max, and a doctor seeming having an animated conversation about…  _

                        "So when do you think that Mr. Ellison will be able to go home?"

            "We should know more after we run a few more tests.  Probably in a few hours we'll have a better idea."  Jim recognized that line as an evasion designed to let the asker think he received an answer, but without actually saying anything.  _Doctors and politicians must go to the same school of rhetoric.  _He briefly scanned other conversations running in the hallway and in some of the rooms, mentally stretching his muscles a bit.  _Okay, nothing out of the ordinary_, as far as he could tell.  

            He stopped listening to the conversations in the hallway as a nurse came in to take his vitals and change his I.V. bag.  He just realized that the intermittent beeping from the I.V. stand hadn't bothered him or Blair.  It must have been beeping for at least a few minutes.  He dismissed it as a by-product of exhaustion, pain, and distraction.  The beeping stopped and he fell back to sleep.

            "Mr. Ellison.  Mr. Ellison?"  He awoke again to a persistent voice.

            "Hmm?"  He tried to rouse himself, but found his eyelids were made of concrete.

            "Can you open your eyes, Mr. Ellison?"  Someone was opening his eyelids for him and shining a shocking bright light into his eyes.

            "Ahh!"  He blinked rapidly and swept the hand connected to the bright light away.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

            "Mr. Ellison, I'm Dr. Drake.  I'm your neurologist.  I was just checking your pupil reactions.  Sorry for the rude awakening, but I wanted to make sure that your reactions are what they should be.  I understand from your history that this is not the first time you have suffered a head injury, let alone been shot.  Multiple head injuries makes your recovery a little more dicey."  Jim looked carefully at the man standing above him, talking to him like he was a child.  The man's sandy blonde hair and lightly complected skin gave him the appearance of being very young.  His stethoscope swung slightly as the doctor leaned in to feel the stitches in Jim's scalp.

            "Hey!"  Jim exclaimed and brushed the doctor's hands away again.

            "I need to make sure that your laceration is healing well and there are no signs of complications."  Dr. Drake slowly reached over to the left side of Jim's head again, watching for Jim's reaction.

            Blair stood up.  "Jim, let the doctor do his thing, man.  The sooner they complete the examination, the sooner we'll know when you can get out of here."  Jim nodded and let the doctor continue his neurologic exam.

            "Mr. Ellison, I want you to follow my finger with your eyes only.  Do not move your head."  Dr. Drake told Jim in a voice that Jim associated only with mothers scolding their children and doctors talking to patients.  Jim did as he was told at Blair's insistence.  He didn't have to like it.

            "Good.  Good.  Now I want you to push back against my hand as hard as you can.  First your left hand."  The doctor put his palm against Jim's and pushed.  Jim pushed back and practically knocked the doctor off-balance.  "Good, now the right hand."  Jim pushed back, but the doctor was able to remain standing with no additional effort.  The doctor scribbled something in Jim's chart.  Jim heard the scratching of the pen on the paper and the buzzing in his ears increased to almost an unbearable level.  He shook his head in an effort to dispel the sound, but he showed no other outward signs of his discomfort as the doctor was asking him to do something else.  He looked to Blair for a repeat of the doctor's instructions.

            Blair seemed to understand his cue.  "Just push with your feet, the same as with your hands."  Jim nodded and did as he was told.  The buzzing seemed to subside after a few minutes.  The doctor ran him through a lot of other annoying tests like asking him to distinguish between a sharp and dull instrument placed on various parts of his body.  Little did the doctor know, he could tell exactly what the size of the instrument he was using, the type of material it was made of and the change in the doctor's pupil dilation when he refocused on another tool.  The visual tests told the doctor that Jim had perfect vision and Jim even had to fudge his answers not to betray his abilities.  The hearing tests were harder to take.  The doctor struck a tuning fork too close to Jim's already sensitive ears and the buzzing made the pain too hard to dismiss.  Blair noticed Jim's discomfort before the doctor did, but could do nothing.  Jim pushed the doctor's hands away from his head and turned away from the sound.

            "Mr. Ellison?"

            "Just call me Jim already."

            "Does that cause you pain?"

            "It's too loud."

            "Is there anything else?"

            "I can hear a buzzing sound.  It gets louder when I hear loud noises and then subsides after awhile."

            "Hmm…  How long have you noticed this sound?"

            "Ever since I woke up here.  It's going away now.  It's okay."

            "The sound may be a remnant of the head trauma, kind of like when your ears ring for a few days after attending a very loud concert.  But, let me know how it is the next time I come back, okay?"

            Jim nodded and looked at Blair.  Blair's face betrayed his concern, but he did not say anything. 

            The doctor then scribbled something more on the chart and then asked Jim to show him various facial expressions to explore the facial nerve function, the doctor explained.  He performed several more tests before he finally left Jim alone.

            "Mr. El.., Jim, I've finished for now.  I'll let you get a little rest before they take you for your MRI in a bit.  See you later."

            "Thanks, Doctor."  Jim said wearily, although he didn't really mean it.

Section 35:

            I waited outside Jim's room and waited for the doctor to finish his evaluation.  The doctor brushed by me on his way out and left me with a little snippet of his life.  I flashed on a gruesome scene with the doctor running over to another group of doctors working on small boy who must have been involved in a serious accident.  His legs were crushed and the doctor knew that the boy would never walk again.

_"That's my son!  Call the Chief Neurosurgeon.  Set up an emergency OR!  I'm scrubbing in!"_

_"You're doing nothing of the sort, Doctor.  We'll update you as soon as the operation's over."  The gurney carrying his son and the team of doctors and nurses pushed by him on their way to the emergency elevator.  He had never felt so helpless in his whole life._

            I shook my head and looked up after the doctor who was striding down the hall and then disappeared around a corner.  I walked into the hospital room carrying my coffees and looked around.  Jim's IV bag continued to pump him full of fluids and Blair looked as if he was about to fall over from exhaustion.

            "Max.  Hey, how're you?"

            "I'm fine, Blair.  Here."  I handed him his coffee.  I looked over at Jim.  "Hey, Jim.  How're you feeling?"

            "I've been better.  I have one hell of a headache."

            "I can commiserate.  Do you mind if I sit down?  Am I interrupting?"

            "I believe that Blair was going to begin with his '_You Should Be More Careful'_ lecture and then we'll progress to the '_I Promise That I'll Call When I'm Going To Be Out Late' rebuttal."  Jim said.  I wasn't really sure if he was kidding or not.  Blair closed his open mouth and erased the exasperated look on his face._

            "Okay.  I'll forgo the lecture as long as you acknowledge the content."

            "Yes, _Mom.  I'll be careful and I'll call you next time I'll be out late.  Feel better now?"_

            "Yeah, lots."

            "Good, Chief. Now go home.  You look like hell."

            "You don't exactly look like a supermodel yourself, Jim."

            "Ha, ha.  Now I mean it.  Go get some sleep and you can come back later tonight.  I'll just be sleeping most of the time anyway.  I'll call you if anything changes."

            "Okay.  I could use a few hours…"

            "And a shower, Sandburg."  Jim wrinkled his nose.  I smiled.  

            "I'm glad you're feeling better, Jim.  I'm sorry we didn't get to talk under better circumstances."  I looked into his eyes, sure that he was hiding something.

            "Yeah, about that.  I want you and Blair to talk to Simon and tell him about what you _saw_.  He's not exactly the most open-minded person when it comes to the _supernatural _stuff, but he'll at least listen to you."  Jim turned to Blair.  "Let me know what happens."

            Blair laid his hand on Jim's shoulder.  "Sure, man.  I'll update you later today when I come back."

            "Make sure that you come bearing gifts, like a cheeseburger from you-know-where."  Jim smiled at Blair's disgusted expression.

            "I'll see what I can do, but I don't think Wonder Burger is on the approved list for food.  C'mon Max.  Let's go.  Mr. Headcase needs his sleep."

            "I heard that."

            Blair and I left the hospital room and walked down the hall to the bank of elevators.  "Is he going to be okay, Blair?"

            "Any time he asks for a cheeseburger, it's usually a good indication that's he's on the road back to health."

Section 36:

            Blair saw Simon in the lobby and made his way in that direction.  He was certainly interested to hear if anything had been discovered about Jim's shooter.

            "No, Sandburg.  Before you even ask, there's no progress yet.  Forensics just got finished with the truck and Connor, Rafe, and Brown are canvassing the neighborhood to find out if anyone saw anything.  And I never want to see that much of Jim's blood outside of his body ever again."  Simon unconsciously rolled his unlit cigar between his fingers.  He slid it back into his pocket and shot Blair his patented 'I'm the boss, don't question me' look.  Blair ignored it.

            "I know Simon.  It scared us too.  Thanks for letting me know what's going on.  I'm sure Jim'll ask the same question when you get upstairs to see him.  As for me, I've been ordered home and to bed by the 'supercop' himself.  I'll be back in a couple of hours…."

            "I'd better not see you for _many_ hours, Sandburg.  I mean it."

            "Yeah, yeah…" Blair trailed off.  He waved his hand at the captain as we exited the hospital and into the bright, fresh sunshine.

            "God, that feels good."  Max stretched, smiled and followed Blair to his car.

            He let out a long breath and smiled himself.  "I feel like I've been holding my breath for twenty-four hours straight.  It feels damn good.  Let's go home, I'm exhausted."

            Blair just about melted into the couch when he got back to the loft.  It was about all he could not to collapse on the stairs on the way up.  He was sure that he had seen Max's eyes droop more than a few times during the drive home.  She hadn't said a word since they left the hospital.   He knew that Max was as drained as he was and offered her his bed.  She collapsed into it just seconds before he lost consciousness himself.

Section 37:

            As was usual for me when I was sleep-deprived, I clicked right into REM sleep and started dreaming as soon as I closed my eyes.  As if in slow motion, I relived the events that led up to Jim's shooting, not really through his eyes, but somehow still part of his perception of the events.  

_I sat in the car next to him as he silently drove into the intersection and stopped at the red light.  The silence and stillness of the night was somehow relaxing to Jim and he looked slowly around his surroundings.  Jim cocked his head as if he heard something and then quickly ducked against the seat as the window next to him shattered inward.  I jumped as the window crashed and I heard the whine of the bullet as it passed very close to my ear. Out of shock, I followed Jim down to the seat.  Only Jim's fast and shallow breathing disturbed the again silence.   I stole a glance in Jim's direction and saw the streetlight's beam glinting off the blood dripping from his head.  It wound its path around his ear and dripped languidly onto the seat where it pooled.  I watched him lay there, afraid to disturb him.  Jim stirred and blinked his eyes a few times and stared at the dashboard in front of him.  He mumbled Blair's name and lost consciousness again as I looked on.  I could do nothing but watch as I knew this was not my dream, but part of a dream replaying the events in Jim's mind. I could smell the odor of a discharged weapon, Jim's blood, and something else, something familiar. I thought I heard the sound of footsteps coming towards me, towards the truck.  I strained to make out any details, but I couldn't discern anything more than that.  The sound faded away. Eventually, the sound of Blair's voice filtered into the cab and the lights from an oncoming Emergency vehicle intermittently lit up the street._

I woke up, drenched in sweat, with my heart pounding and more than a few questions running through my head.  What the hell happened to him out there?  Why was I channeling Jim anyway?  Normally, I would have to be in physical contact with the person in question and usually _awake_.  I stared at the ceiling and willed answers to come to me.  The lights from a passing car stole across the room before disappearing into the corner.  I decided to fix myself a glass of warm milk to help me get back to sleep so I got up and walked towards the door to the bedroom.  I could hear the slight purring sounds of snoring as I opened the door and peeked out towards the huddled mass on the couch.  A gentle light from an outside streetlight barely outlined the forms of the furniture in the living room.  I swore quietly as I stubbed my toe on the edge of the coffee table.  Blair's form did not move as I passed him quietly.  I opened up the refrigerator door and the light cast a glow on Blair.  I glanced at him again and then faced the insides of the refrigerator in search of the milk.  The gentle murmurs of the refrigerator's compressor seemed reassuring somehow. I pulled the carton out of the back and shook it slightly, trying to determine just how much was left.  I stepped back and bumped into something.  I yelped, jumped and dropped the milk on the floor as a sleepy Blair stood behind me, rubbing his eyes against the light of the fridge.

"Jeez, Blair, what the hell did you think you were doing?  You scared me!"  I bent down with paper towels in hand to try and assess the extent of the spill.  He bent down at the same time and we promptly bumped heads.  I fell backwards onto the floor and, of course, landed in a puddle of milk.  I shook my head as Blair stood me, laughing uncontrollably.  "I'm so glad that I amused you.  Is there anything else I can do for your enjoyment?"  The sarcasm was only half-meant.  I pulled the rubber band out of my hair and attempted to put it back into some semblance of order.

Blair pulled me to my feet, only inches from his face.  The refrigerator light reflected lightly off his curls and his laughing eyes.  "Actually, there is."  He leaned in and kissed me gently.  Partly out of shock and partly indignation for being laughed at, I did not eagerly return his kiss.  He started to pull back and then I pulled him closer.

"I was wondering when you were going to do that."  My hand slid down from his back to his hand and grasped it.

"I was wondering when I _should_ do that."

"Blair, stop wondering and do it again."

Section 38:

            Jim woke up suddenly on the heels of a vivid dream, the details of which were already melting away into his subconscious.  He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.  The room was practically pitch black, save for one lamp in the corner by the door.  The beeping of the cardiac monitor just registered with him as did the small and steady dripping of his IV machine into the tube connected to the inside of his forearm.  Then the infernal buzzing in his ears began in earnest.  _Dammit!_  He had hoped that it would go away after he had woken up.  The buzzing crescendoed until it blotted out all other sounds, the sounds he usually had no trouble hearing.  Like the nurses talking the hallway, the scratching of the doctor's pen on a chart, his own heartbeat.  _Goddammit!_  He lashed out and swept everything on the top of his nightstand onto the floor.  He _had_ to get out of here and figure out who was trying to kill him.  _Blair might be in trouble_.  He didn't know why he was being targeted, but now that he wasn't dead, maybe they would go after Blair next.  He peered into the darkest corner of the room and tried to count the cracks on the ceiling tile.  He found that he still could see as if he was looking through night vision goggles. He could make out shapes, but not a lot of detail or colors. He rubbed his sheets between his fingers and found that he could still perceive individual threads.  _Okay, so only hearing was offline_.  He could work with that.  He'd done it before.  He would just have to rely on his other senses to compensate until he was better.  

            He lay back on his pillow.  _God, he was exhausted_.  He took a deep breath and exhaled.  He pulled out his IV and ripped off his heart monitors.  He stood up and swayed, the room seemed to be spinning under his feet.  He grabbed for something to steady himself and succeeded in knocking down the IV stand and nearly himself.  He shook his head and he seemed to regain his balance enough to walk over to the closet and take out his bag.  He sat down on the cold cement tile floor and pulled out clothing that Blair had so nicely folded.  _Blair.  _That thought alone helped to propel him forward and get dressed.  Pain lanced through his head unmercifully, like spider webs spreading out further and further from the site of his head injury. But, the buzzing had seemed to subside slightly and he was able to hear conversation and footsteps in the hallway.  _The nurses must be coming to check in on me_.  He opened the door quickly and slipped out just before two nurses passed by.  He had grabbed his wallet from his bedside table before his hasty departure, but he had forgotten his keys.  _What the hell did it matter anyway?  The truck had been impounded for forensic analysis._  

            He slipped into a nearby restroom to clean himself up so he could get out of the hospital without too many questions.  He looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised by the haggard-looking man staring back at him.  He looked horrible.  His eyes looked sunken in and red-rimmed, his skin was pale and had a nasty tinge of yellow.  He splashed some water on his face and gingerly felt the back of his head for the bandage covering his stitches.  He pulled it off, grimacing against the sting of ripping out some of his hair.  He rubbed his fingers over the stitches, glad they didn't have to shave his head.  He pulled a paper towel out the dispenser a little too loudly, setting off the buzzing all over again.  He sighed out of frustration and threw the towel at the garbage can.  The familiar sound of a gun being cocked filled his head as he dove for the floor.  He reached for his gun instinctively, but it wasn't there.  _Goddammit again!_ _Simon had taken it with him when he had been brought into the hospital_.  He felt naked without it, completely vulnerable.   _And with his senses on the fritz_…  He would just have to be extra careful.  He lay there for a few minutes, scanning the room for any sign of an intruder.  He stretched his hearing out into the hallway, but was rewarded only by an increase in the volume of the buzzing sound and blinding bolts of pain through his head.  The outer door of the bathroom began to open and he pulled himself to his feet.  He looked at the floor as he walked past the person coming in and strode as best as he could down the hallway towards the lobby.  

Section 39:

            Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind as he kissed Max's soft lips.  He ran his hands under her shirt and up her bare back.  She moaned lightly and he took that as a sign that he could continue.  Her hands were moving through his hair and the gentle tugging only made him more excited.  He pulled away for a moment and led her to the couch and pulled her on top of him.  He could still feel the pressure of her lips on his own.  They continued to explore each other's bodies and mouths for a while until Max sat up.

            She sat up on top of him and took a deep breath.  She laid her hands on his now bare chest.  _Funny, he didn't remember taking his shirt off_.  "Whoa there, Tiger.  I don't go _all the way_ on a first date.  Hey, did we even go on a first date?"

            "Well, you've already slept in my bed, several times in fact.  I think that would entitle me to…"

            "To what?  You better watch what you say next, Tiger."  She smiled and leaned back in to kiss him gently on the neck.  It gave him goose bumps all the way down to his toes.

            "To whatever you want.  You're in control here.  I am just your plaything."

            "My plaything, huh?  Good."  She became quiet and looked out of the french doors and into the street.  The sun had already set and the streetlights were beginning to flicker on.  Blair craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall.  Just past 8:30 p.m.  "Blair, what do you think really happened to Jim?  I think that I caught some of…something…just before.  He was reliving the shooting and there were a lot of things that didn't make sense."

            "What?  You can get flashes from people when you're not in physical contact with them?" Blair sat up with that question.  The romantic moment had been broken.

Section 40:

            "It's never happened to me before.  A lot of things have happened to me lately that I can't explain, things that have never happened before.  Usually, it's just fleeting images of people's strongest thoughts and feelings, nothing more than a little bit of a peepshow for me.  I never can get enough to really understand what I see, but I can get a sense of their state of mind during whatever I _see_.  But with you and Jim, everything's different. Ever since I met you, I get so many _flashes_ that it makes my head hurt.  So many images that I can't understand.  And that _thing_ with the coffee shop.  I've never seen the _future_ before, Blair.  That scared the hell out of me and _still_ does.  How did I get so much from Jim when I just touched his hand?   All I was trying for was a little show to get him to at least listen to me.  What I got was his life history punctuated by the most traumatic parts of his life.  I'm overwhelmed by all of this.  By _you_."  I stopped to pull in a ragged breath and leaned against the cushions of the couch.  Blair ran a finger down the side of my face and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.  

            "I think I have an idea of what you mean.  Just trust me.  I will do everything I can to help you with this gift."

            I thought it better not to pursue what he meant by that and took his word that he would help me.  _Gift._  I wouldn't call it that.  It's much more trouble than a _gift _should be.  I slid over and laid my head on his shoulder.   It felt like we were meant to fit together that way.  I inhaled slowly and smelled him.  My eyes fluttered closed as I tried to imprint the memory of _him_ into my mind.


	3. Chapter III

Section 41:          

            Jim walked slowly and deliberately down the hall, very conscious of the fact that if anyone would recognize him, he would never get another chance to leave.  Simon would keep him there under personal guard at the very least.  He wished he had a baseball cap or something to help hide his face.  Jim tried to figure out his next plan of action but found that it took most of his waning concentration just to keep his balance.  He would have to get home first and then he would figure out how to find the shooter. He blinked rapidly in a vain attempt to equilibrate his eyes to the relative darkness outside.  Everything seemed to have a halo around it, sort of how it looked when he had been exposed to Golden.  _Maybe this was a reaction to one of the medications he had been given during his hospital stay.  Yeah, maybe that was it and this would all go away on its own._  He stumbled over a raised sidewalk panel and realized that he hadn't been paying much attention to where he was going, just as long as it was away from the hospital.  Disconnected words and ideas swam through his head. _How would he ever figure out who took potshots at him?  How the hell did they know where he was going to be?  Was it random or was it intentional?  Did I remember to turn off the water the last time I took a shower?  Where was my gun? I wonder when it's going to rain?  _His mental babbling was similar to the how he usually felt when he was just about to fall asleep, _in the twilight zone_, as Blair liked to call it.  Sometimes his most brilliant ideas came to him then.  _Yeah…so much for brilliant_.  He shuffled on towards where he hoped was his intended destination…_home_.

Section 42:

            Blair was dreaming that he was being chased and he could barely move his feet.  It was like he was trying to walk through mud and it kept sucking his feet back down.  He tried to turn his head to identify his pursuer, but he couldn't.  It was too dark but Blair knew he was out there, waiting for his chance.

            A shrill ring ripped Blair out of his dream state and back to reality.  His hand was reaching for the phone even before his brain could register the change in scenery.    

            Before he could say hello, a low, gruff voice interrupted.  "Sandburg, is Jim there with you?"

            "Simon?…Wh..What do you mean?  Isn't he there with you?"  Blair's voice became more strained with every word.  He knew before Simon started into his explanation that Jim was in trouble.  Simon didn't get that upset without a reason.  "Where is Jim?  Is he okay?" 

            "That's it.  We don't know.  He just disappeared out of his hospital room.  His clothes and belongings are gone too."

            "Do you think that he's been kidnapped or something, Simon?"

            "Calm down.  Even with Jim in a coma he wouldn't let himself get taken without a fight.  We found no evidence of a struggle and we have a nurse who says that someone matching Jim's description was seen walking out through the Emergency Room entrance."  Simon paused.  "Sandburg?…Sandburg?"

            "Yeah, Simon?"

            "You're not planning on doing anything stupid now, are you?"

            "Of course not.  I'm the responsible one, remember?"

            "You had better make it stay that way.  If I find out that you did anything…"

            "Don't worry about me.  You just find Jim.  I'll see what I can do from my end.  Make phone calls, that sort of thing.  Okay?"  Blair was already throwing some things into a bag as he spoke to the Captain.  "I'll call you if I turn up anything."

            "All right, Sandburg.  The same goes on this end.  Rafe, Brown and some uniforms are already doing a house-to-house search inside a ten-block perimeter around the hospital.  We'll find him."

            "Thanks, Simon."    Blair hung up the phone and threw his bag over his shoulder.  He checked the battery on his cell phone and shook his head.

            "Where are we going?" Max asked softly.

            "_We're_ not going anywhere.  _I'm_ going out to find Jim.  He's left the hospital AMA.  Man, against _any_ advice.  I need you to stay here in case he shows up.  Here's my cell number in case you need me."  He scribbled the digits on a scrap of paper and handed it to her.  "I don't have a lot of juice left in this battery.  I hope it's enough."

            "Where are you going to be?"

            "I don't know.  Just out there."

            "Okay.  Be careful and good luck.  I'll let you know the second I hear or know anything new about Jim, okay?"

            "Great." Blair let out a slow sigh.  _When was this going to end?_

Section 43:

            Did Blair actually think that I would stay put and wait?  I never was one to just sit still when there were things that needed to be done.  I would just go out quickly, so I could be back before Blair did.  I could find Jim again like before.  Then Blair would come back and not have to worry anymore.  How the hell did I know where to find him?  Did I know if I could do that again?  I didn't even know that I could do it in the first place.  _Okay, relax_.   Maybe if I held something of Jim's, it would give a vibe or something, somewhere to start.

            I went upstairs to Jim's room and looked around in the semi-dark.  I found a lamp and switched it on.  It bathed the room in a golden glow and it seemed to take an edge off my anxiety.  I sat down on his bed, waiting for some divine intervention or something.  I moved until I was sitting in the center of his bed and crossed my legs into the lotus position.  I closed my eyes and waited.

_The world seemed hazy and off-balance, but still had the glow of the lamp in the bedroom.  The darkness was slowly creeping into my vision, but yet I could still see everything as clearly as day.  Maybe better than that.  There was a far away buzzing noise that seemed to increase and diminish with no regularity.  Random thoughts about the rain, baseball, and my father ran through my head, but not stopping long enough for me to make sense out of them.  I didn't seem to recognize my surroundings, but somehow they were familiar.  I looked down at my hands and realized that they weren't mine.  _They were Jim's.  

            I broke out of my trance or whatever it was at that insight.  I had made a connection to Jim.  I bounded off the bed to the phone and dialed Blair's number.

            "Hello.  Jim?"  The hopefulness in Blair's voice made me cringe.

            "No, sorry, Blair. It's me, Max.  I think that I may have something on Jim, though."

            "Has he come back?"

            "I had a vision, Blair.  I saw where he is.  I don't know this area well enough to tell you where that is without seeing it for myself. Come get me and we'll find Jim."

            "Oh man, great.  I was afraid you were going to tell me something bad."  With that, he clicked off the phone.

            I wasn't so sure that Blair's fears weren't justified.

Section 44:

            He was so tired, _so tired_.  He could barely move anymore.  The buzzing had exploded into a roar in the last hour or so.  He had no idea how much time had passed or where he was.  It was almost completely dark now.  He leaned against the wall of the building to his left and slid down until he was sitting on the ground.  There was no one around that he could ask for help.  He sighed. He hoped that his Dad would come and pick him up soon.  He was hungry and he knew that his Mom was making his favorite for dinner tonight.  _Where was the rest of his baseball team?  His coach didn't usually leave until his father had come get him.  His Dad would come get him.  He just must be running late_. He'd just wait here until he came.

            Something else was nibbling at the edge of his brain.  Something didn't seem right and his head hurt so much.  _The game must have gone into extra innings_.  That's why he was so tired.  If he could just close his eyes for a little while…..

Section 45:

            Blair had the feeling that something was wrong, very wrong, with Jim, otherwise he would have called or shown up by now.  _When was it any other way?_  He glanced at his watch.  The lightly glowing hands showed that it was approaching 9:30 p.m.  The light was gone and a bit of a chill was developing in the air, even though it was already May.  He hugged himself and looked up at the sky, where he could make out one or two stars that were already blinking in the sky.  Maybe they were just airplanes.  He had just gotten off the phone with Max and she seemed to think that she could find Jim again.  _Man, how did that happen?  How did someone else get to have a direct line to the Sentinel when he had to struggle so hard?_  He shook his head, trying to dispel the sudden spring of jealousy that had bubbled up inside him.  _The most important thing was to find Jim right now.  Everything else can wait.  _

            He ran back to where his car was parked and fumbled in his pockets for the keys.  As he pulled them out, they caught on his jeans and he dropped them on the ground.  As he leaned over to pick them up, he felt a sudden prickling on the back of his neck.  Almost as if reacting to instinct, he crouched down further just as he heard the distinctive whine of a bullet pass just inches above his head.  He fell flat on the ground and rolled underneath his car, hoping to garner some protection from whoever was targeting him.  _Man!  That was too close!  Good thing my _spidey_ sense kicked in there.  Where the hell did that come from?  _

            He waited breathlessly for any sign of a continued attack.  He stared up at the axles of his car and wondered darkly if they were going to be the last thing he ever saw.  He turned his head and looked out longingly at his backpack on the street, slightly open.  _If only I could get to the phone and let Simon know what was going on.  _Did he dare try to reach it? He dared.  It was the only way he was going to out of this situation alive.  He knew that as surely as he knew his own name.  He slowly turned onto his side, which was very difficult underneath the car.  He scraped his hip painfully on the undercarriage of the car and hissed in response.  _Great.  At least you're not dead,_ popped into his mind.  He turned onto his stomach just as he heard another shot impact the driver's side door.  The _thwack_ on the side of his car was unmistakable.  _Wonderful._

            He peered out of his hiding place and tried to determine where the shooting had originated, but he just couldn't get the visibility he needed.  _Where was Jim when I needed him?  Okay, keep your cool.  Jim's not here, you've got to get yourself out of this. You've spent enough years with the police department to pick up a few things.   _A few cleansing breaths didn't do much to dispel his fear, but it helped to slow his racing heart enough for him to concentrate on what he had to do.  He waited for a few minutes for something to happen.   Nothing.  He hoped that meant that either the sniper had left or maybe was distracted with something.  Now was his chance.  He leapt out from beneath the car.

Section 46:

            The memory of Jim's whereabouts was beginning to fade as I waited not-so-patiently for Blair to come back.  I began pacing in front of the couch in the living room while staring outside through the French doors.  _The time is now.  _That phrase appeared in my thoughts without so much as an invitation.  _The time is now.  _Time for what?  The sinking feeling in my stomach did not help matters any.  I dialed Blair's number again, desperately hoping that my feeling was wrong, that it was just a reaction to the burrito that I had for lunch.  No answer.  _Never let a man do a woman's job…_  I picked up my stuff and ran out the door.  I hailed a passing cab and told him to drive around.  Drive around until I felt something familiar.  The night was falling fast and I hoped against hope that I would stumble onto something, anything that would help.  My eye caught a pay phone on the corner.  It was like finding a lighthouse in a bad storm.  Maybe that Captain of theirs could help.  What was his name?  …_Captain Simon Banks_. 

            I paid the cab driver, slid out of the cab, and ran across the dark street to the phone.  A light mist was beginning to fall and I hoped that Blair and Jim would be safe.  I dialed 9-1-1 and waited.

            "9-1-1 Emergency, how may I help you?"

            "Yes, my name is Maxine Eliot-Jones.  I'm trying to reach Captain Simon Banks at the 57th precinct, I think.  I'm a friend of Detective Ellison and Blair Sandburg.  It's an emergency."

            "One moment, I'll connect you."  The emotion-less voice droned as I waited impatiently for the connection.

            "Captain Simon Banks."  A staccato voice next greeted me and relief washed over me like a wave.

            "Captain, this is Max Eliot-Jones.  I'm a friend of Blair's.  We met at the hospital.  Remember?"

            "Yes, Ms. Jones.  What can I do for you?  Is something wrong with Blair?  Did something happen?"  After all his years with the "dynamic duo" he knew that something was _always_ wrong with them.  It was only a question of where and when.

            "Uh, Captain, I'm not really sure….Blair called me a little while ago and I told him to come pick me up.  That was an hour ago and his cell phone isn't picking up."  I told him in a rush, knowing full well that Blair was supposed to stay at the loft and make phone calls to help find Jim, _not_ go out and look for him.

            There was a pause and I could imagine that the Captain was probably trying to keep from yelling at me.  His voice came across the line very deliberate and strained.  "Okay, where are you?  I'll come pick you up and we'll look for him."

            "Thanks, Captain.  I think something's wrong with Blair…and Jim.  Please get here as soon as you can."  I looked around for an indication of where I was and was greeted by a dark green cross of signs.  "I'm at the corner of Spruce and Washington."  I waited for his acknowledgement and hung up the phone.  For some reason I felt that I could trust their Captain, even with my secret.  I hoped that I wasn't wrong.  Blair and Jim's lives just might depend on my not being dumped in the nearest Psych. Ward.  

Section 47:

            As Captain Banks hung up the phone, his stomach sank to the same place it always did whenever he found out that Jim and/or Blair were in trouble.  Which seemed to be happening more and more.  He left word with the desk sergeant where he would be and made sure that his beeper and cell phone were in working order.  He quickly dialed Blair's cell phone and waited for it to pick up.  When he listened for two rings and heard the voicemail pick up, he hung up.  He grabbed his keys and flew out the door.  

            He didn't care that it was now approaching 10:00 PM and he still hadn't eaten dinner.   He chewed on the end of his cigar angrily as he sped towards his destination, lights and sirens blaring.  He hoped that the girl was waiting for him when he got there.  He really didn't feel like having to search for all three of them.  Food would have to wait.

Section 48:

            Jim groggily stirred and wondered why his bed was damp.  Was the roof leaking above his bed again?  He wrenched his eyes open and stared at the night sky.  The stars twinkled dimly at him through the cloudy haze that was trying very hard to produce some rainfall.  His thoughts didn't seem to be quite coherent, but at least they seemed to make a little bit of sense.  He wondered why the hell he was sitting outside in the rain and where the hell he was in the first place.  He tried to stand up but was pushed down by the pain in his head and the fact that everything was spinning around crazily.  He'd been hit on the head enough times to know the symptoms of a concussion when he felt them.  _Man, this was bad_.  He hadn't felt this bad since….  He hoped he couldn't remember feeling worse because he hadn't, not because he couldn't remember.  _All this thinking's giving me a headache._  He was pretty sure that he had one before, but he was sure that it now had to be worse.  With that, he slowly pushed himself up, fought the wave of nausea that accompanied his ascent and shuffled off down the street.  

            The bright lights from the convenience store sign seemed to burn holes into his eyeballs.  He blinked back tears that sprang up of their own volition.  His hand slid into the back pocket of his jeans and he contacted only an empty pocket.  No wallet, no money, and no identification.   _Great, I must've been robbed when I was out cold on the sidewalk. _He just hoped that he could find a phone that worked.  He needed to call Blair and let him know that he was okay.  Then he needed to call Simon and tell him…_tell him what?  _He couldn't seem to wrap his brain around that one for now, so he gave up and opened the door.  He was immediately assailed with the bright lights, odors, and sounds of the establishment.  _God_, he could even smell the rat droppings on top of the ceiling tiles and hear them scrabbling across the metal drop ceiling supports.  He swallowed very deliberately, trying very hard not to throw up in the middle of the store.  The clerk eyed him warily and then went back to the tabloid he was reading.  Jim swallowed again and walked up to the clerk.  

            "Do you have a pay phone?"  He realized that he must look like hell, but he hoped he looked normal enough for the clerk to direct him to the phone.

            "Yeah, uh, man.  It's behind the store, around back."  The man gain looked at him a bit longer than normal etiquette would direct, but then again his eyes wandered back to his tabloid.

            Jim shuffled back outside and around the back of the store.  He crumpled to the ground, as his knees no longer had the strength to hold him up.

Section 49:

            He immediately fell on his knees in the middle of the street and the rest of his body continued in its downward direction.  Another bullet whine flew by and his head connected with the asphalt and bounced slightly.  He could almost feel his brain bouncing inside of his skull.  He saw spots but willed himself not to black out.  He decided to play dead and bit his lip _hard_ for effect.  The dripping blood from the corner of his mouth might convince someone that he was hit.  He tried desperately to slow his frantic breathing.    Hopefully he would get away with that until he could think of something else to do.  It was dark now and all could think about was getting out of this so he could get to Jim.  Max must be out of her mind by now.  He closed his eyes and thought it shouldn't be too hard to pretend to be unconscious as his head felt kind of fuzzy anyway.  Somewhere off in the distance he would swear later that he heard a wolf howling…

Section 50:

            By the time the Captain's car pulled up to the corner where I was standing, I had a steely cold feeling in the pit of my stomach that I just couldn't shake.  The light rain that had begun to fall earlier in the evening had now begun sputtering into a real shower.  A raindrop caught the back of my shirt and ran down my back, leaving an icy cold trail in its wake. The feel of death seemed to be all around me as I opened the door to his car and sat down.  

            "Are you okay?"  the Captain asked as I looked at him, as if he would have all the answers wrapped up.

            "I don't think so…..Captain, what do you know about things that most people can't see, hear, or touch, but yet are still there?"  I spoke softly, half afraid that he would just kick me out of the car outright.  I paused for his reaction.  _Nothing._  So I continued, "Sometimes I just know things. Things that I shouldn't, couldn't know by all the ways that most people learn things.  Sometimes I get what I call "flashes", where I can touch someone and pick up a little bit about something that happened to them in the past.  Usually it has to be something very powerful in that person's life, like a major event or trauma.  But with Jim and Blair, it's been different.  I can't explain it to myself, so I certainly can't even begin to explain it to you."  I paused again to look out the window and give the Captain a minute to absorb what I told him.  For some reason he didn't seem at all surprised.

            "You mean like ESP or something?"  He said it like he was asking if I had a good day at work or something.  Like it was something that he dealt with all the time and it didn't faze him for a second. 

            "I guess you could call it that.  Captain, may I ask you a question?"

            "Sure."

            "Why aren't you calling me a wacko and kicking me out of your car by now?"

            "You might say that I have some experience with what you're talking about."

Section 51:

            "911.  What is the nature of your emergency?"

            "Uh…(fast breathing).  There's been shooting here.  I….don't feel so good.  Can't…can't concentra…te."

            "Sir, what is your name?"

            "Blair..ssssss…(unintelligible garble)."  The 911 operator put her hand over the receiver of her headpiece and motioned to the operator next to her.  She scribbled a message on his pad.  "Call Captain Simon Banks at the 57th precinct."

            "Blair, can you hear me?"

            "Yesssss…"  It sounded more like the sound of air escaping than an answer, but the operator pressed on.

            "Do you know what happened?"

            "Dunno.  I hit my head pretty hard…."

            "Do you know where you are?"

            "So…tired."

            "I know you're tired, but I need you to stay with me.  Do you understand?"

            "Hmmm.."

            "Blair.  Stay awake.  You need to stay awake until the paramedics come to get you.  Okay?  Do you think that you can do that for me, Blair?"  

            "Okay….What time is it?"

            "It's 10:15 pm.  Do you know where you are?"

            "Wha….?  What?  I'm in the street, I think.  Someone's after me.  I have to get away from here."

            "Blair.  Blair, I need you to stay focused for me, okay?  Do you see any street signs?" 

            "Man,…I don't know...Watson, I think.  I lost my glasses.  I can't see the sign too good."

            "That's okay.  Blair?  You stay put.  Try not to move too much, but if you're in the middle of the street, you need to move to the curb.  Do you think you can do that?"

            "I…I think so."

            "Blair.  Make sure that you don't hang up.  I'm sending EMT out to you now.  Stay on the line and don't hang up.  Do you understand, Blair?"  The operator shook her head in frustration.  She felt like she was losing his concentration.

            "Yeah?…..(groaning noises)"

            "How are you feeling?"

            "Dizzy.  My head's all fuzzy."

            "Blair.  I want you to sit down on the curb, okay?  Sit down and wait for the EMT.  Is anyone else around?"

            "My car.  They shot up my car.  Man, Jim's going to yell at me."

            "Jim Ellison?"  She read the APB notice that had gone out to all the operators earlier that evening.  They had met once or twice at a police function.

            "Yeah.  Jim's my partner.  Do you know him?"

            "We've met.  Nice guy."  The operator was glad that Blair was sounding a bit more coherent now.

            "Yeah, he's a good guy.  I really should get going home now.  Jim'll be worried."

            "Uh, Blair?  Jim said it would be okay of you stayed to wait for the EMT.  Okay?  Will you do that?"

            "Jim said that?  Will he come get me now?"

            "He told me that he'll be there soon.  Could you stay awake until he gets there?"

            "I'll just wait until Jim comes…."

            "Good….good…."  The operator hoped that he would keep that promise.

Section 52:

            The shrill ring of a cell phone woke me from a light doze in the passenger seat of the Captain's car.  My head began to ache as if I hadn't slept in three days.  I felt a little nauseous and disoriented.

            "Banks……Hmmm.  I'll be right there."  He slapped the cell phone closed on his leg and slid it into his pocket.  He swung the car around in a U-turn and switched on the flashing lights on the car's visor.  

            "They found Blair."  The Captain faced me briefly.

            "He's hurt.  His head, I think. Are we going to meet him at the hospital?" 

            "Uh, yeah.  How did you know?…..Wait, on second thought, I don't want to know.  They said that he should be okay.  He has a concussion.  Somebody was shooting at him."

            I shivered at the idea that Blair was being targeted the same as Jim.   "Captain, don't you think it's strange that whoever is shooting at Blair and Jim knew where they were going to be even when they didn't?  Is there some way that Jim and Blair are being tracked?  I think that Jim would've noticed a tail.  He never said anything about that, did he?"  I was rambling, but I didn't care.  Sometimes the stream of consciousness thinking helped me solve problems.  

            We pulled onto the hospital campus and we followed the signs to Emergency. "Jim didn't say anything about it to me at the hospital.  I need to call the precinct and let them know what's going on.  I'll meet you inside."  He pulled up to the Emergency entrance to Cascade General.  This was getting to be a regular routine.  Not one that I'd care to continue. 

            I wandered around the Emergency area, careful not to extend myself too far, until I heard the now familiar strains of Blair's voice, complaining.  "Look, doctor.  I'm fine, really.  Everything works.  I don't need to stay overnight for observation.  I know the procedure already.  I just have a headache.  You can all back off."  He swiped his hand in their general direction to emphasize his feelings as I peeked around the edge of a partially-closed curtain.

            I walked into the examination area and was met by Blair's strained smile.  "See, Max'll take care of me, won't you?  I can go home now."

            "Blair!  Jeez, are you okay?  I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't find you.  Captain Banks drove me here.  He should be here in a minute."  I hugged him, genuinely glad that he was okay.

            "I'm fine, fine.  Did they find Jim yet?  Nobody'll tell me anything."  Panic flared up in his voice and in his eyes.

            "I'm sorry, Blair.  No news yet, as far as I know."

            "I need to get out of here, with or against medical advice.  I need to go find Jim."

            "Blair, you've just been through a lot.  Don't you think that you should go home and rest?"

            "That's the best advice I've heard all day."  Captain Banks came striding up to the pair of us.  "The whole department is looking for Jim.  We'll find him."

            "Simon…"

            "Don't _Simon_ me!  That's an order.  I will drop you and Max at the loft and you _will_ stay there until I tell you otherwise.  No questions.  No backtalk.  _Do you understand_?"

            Blair shrugged and looked at the floor.  He knew when he was beat.

Section 53:

            "Sir?  Sir, are you alright?"

            "Maybe we should call the cops.  He's probably just drunk."

            "I don't know…..You know, you could be right."  Jim could hear each button on the guy's cell phone being depressed as he called 9-1-1, the sound of his skin as it was compressed onto the plastic button, the beating of his heart, his breathing, and the slight breeze ruffling his jacket.  He prayed fervently that the buzzing sound wouldn't start up again.   He tried to remember what Blair taught him about "dialing down his senses", but those lessons seemed so far away now.  Everything seemed so far away….

            "Sir, can you tell me your name?"  Somebody in a blue uniform was leaning over him.  Lights from an ambulance flashed off the buildings and the ground.  They reverberated from behind his eyes and he blinked to try and focus.  Tears streamed down his face unabated in reaction to the bright lights and multitude of other sensory input.  "Sir?  Can you hear me?"  Somebody was asking him questions and somebody had their hand around his wrist.  He pulled his arm away from them and tried to get up.

            "Leave me alone!"  He backed up and pushed his back up against the side of the building.  The brick felt rough and cold and prickled like sandpaper on his skin.  Disorientation came over him like a wave and he gave into it.  He slid down to the pavement in a heap.  The warm blanket of darkness again descended over his consciousness.  _Enough._

Section 54:

            Blair could feel the dizziness just pushing on the edges of his brain, wanting to keep him from thinking clearly.  He leaned a little more onto the Captain's shoulder as he and Max helped him to the car.

            "Simon…"

            "What, Sandburg?  You are in no condition to look for Jim.  I repeat, _no condition_.  _We_ will find Jim."

            "Captain Banks, I will make sure that he stays where he is supposed to stay.  I promise."  Max smiled lightly and helped Blair into the Captain's sedan.  She slid in next to him and held his hand.  Blair squeezed her hand and fervently hoped that Jim would be waiting at the loft when he got there.  The Captain remained on his cell phone for most of the drive back to the loft getting updates on the crime scene where Blair was attacked and the status of the search for Jim.  Blair could barely keep his thoughts coherent and wondered fleetingly if he should have stayed for observation.  He turned his head gently to avoid a searing pain flare-up and looked at Max.  She had fallen asleep again and seemed to be peaceful.  _Well, we haven't let her have a decent night's sleep since she came here.   _

Blair's brain couldn't seem to manage to stay awake after watching her sleep, so he gave in as well.  Next thing he knew, the Captain was shaking him awake and telling him to get upstairs to bed.

Section 55:

            I felt so groggy from being woken up but felt a little relieved at the same time.  I couldn't quite place why, but I was glad for it.  There was entirely too much tension in my life lately.  I hoped enthusiastically that this feeling meant that Jim was safe.  I wanted to tell Blair, but decided not to get him too excited.  I was being herded up some stairs and into Blair's loft again.  Did I have a place to stay myself?  I wasn't even sure anymore.  I crumpled onto the couch and slipped back into the warm cocoon of sleep and wished that the morning would bring good news and a little more relief.

            A grating and persistent ringing in the darkness brought me back from nowhere.  

            "Yes, this is Blair Sandburg.  You have Jim?  He's okay?  Man, thank God.  Thanks, Simon.  I will be over at the hospital as soon as the visiting hours start.  I know, I know, not before.  Thanks again.  See you soon."  Blair put the phone back on its cradle and rushed over to me on the couch.  He gave me such a crushing hug that I was a little afraid he was going to crack my ribs.

            "Blair.  Thank God that Jim's been found."

            "Simon's at the hospital now.  Jim was unconscious when they brought him in, but they could find no other injuries than the ones he had when he was brought in before.  It might just be exhaustion.  They'll know more in the morning when the tests come back."

            "Speaking of exhaustion, you'll collapse yourself if you don't get some sleep.   Come here."  I gestured next to me and he slid closer to me on the couch cushion.  "Let me give you a little scalp massage, it always works for me."

            I had Blair lay down with his head near me.  I placed my fingers on his temples and started to rub in very small circles.  Before I could make three revolutions, Blair's breathing had become regular and slow.  He was asleep.  I must have fallen asleep myself, because I became very aware that I was dreaming.  

_Dark figures weaving in and out of dark trees, no sounds, no other movements.  Stillness…the stillness of death.  I even realized how melodramatic that seemed.  Like someone was trying really hard to scare me.  I looked around and saw myself in a jungle and it felt like a long time ago…._

Section 56:

            The antiseptic odor that pervaded everything told him instantly where he was. For once, he was glad.  At least his mind felt more coherent.  He slowly opened his eyes and was relieved when he felt no shooting pains.  The buzzing in his ears seemed to have subsided for now.  All he wanted to do was go back to sleep, but he had to know if Blair was okay.  He moved his hand over to the call button and depressed it.  

            The nurse strode in a few minutes later.  "Detective Ellison.  You're awake.  How do you feel?"  the nurse asked while adjusting his IV site.  

            "Okay, I guess.  What time is it?"

            "Three a.m., Thursday morning."  _Holy shit.  What the hell happened to yesterday?_  He didn't remember much of anything about it.  "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

            "Water would be good, thanks."  After she left to fill up the pink plastic pitcher that had been sitting on his nightstand, Jim reached for the phone and dialed his familiar home number.

            "Hello?"  An achingly familiar, but sleepy, voice answered the phone.  _Thank God he was all right._

"Hey, Chief.  It's Jim.  Are you okay?"

            "Jim!!!?  Man, am I glad to hear your voice.  The question is are you okay?  We had a hell of a time finding you.  Where have you been?…."   Blair asked about a half dozen more questions before he stopped to take a breath.

            "Whoa, Blair.  I'm fine, I think.  I have no idea where I've been, I don't remember much from the last day or so."

            "I'm coming over to see you in about….4 hours.  Okay?  Simon won't let me come over until visiting hours.   Something about getting sleep.  I did get into a little scrape earlier this past evening.  I'll tell you about it when I see you.  It's nothing.  As long as you're safe.  Get some rest and I'll see you soon.  We'll figure all of this out in the morning. "

            "Sounds good, Chief.  See you soon."

            "Jim?"

            "Yeah?"

            "I'm glad you're okay."

            "Me, too."

            Jim could hear the sigh of relief that escaped his partner's lips as he was hanging up the phone.  He heard the nurse return with the water as he drifted back off to sleep.

_He found himself in the jungle, talking with one of his Special Ops teammates, whom everyone called "Boss", who died in the helo crash.  Jim thought it was strange that he was talking to him when he knew that his fellow officer was supposed to be dead.  Maybe there was a mistake.  But Jim knew there wasn't.   _

_What was he talking about?  He could barely hear what he was saying over the din of the helicopter warming up.  Things seemed to be too loud._

_"Ellison, you with me here?  If this operation doesn't go smoothly, I want you to give this to my brother, okay?  His name's Michael.  He's in Los Angeles." Boss pushed a small pocket watch into Jim's hands.  "Promise me."  _

_"I promise…"_

Section 57:

Blair had sincerely hoped that it had been one hell of a party because his head felt like it could explode if he were to cough or sneeze or something.  Memories of the past few days came flooding back as well as the realization that Jim was okay and that he was okay.  _Okay?  Okay.  Everyone's okay.  Enough of that.  Need to call Simon and find out what the hell was going on around here.  _

            Before he could pick up the phone, it rang.

            "Hello?"   

            "Blair, this is Simon."

            "Wow, how did you do that?"

            "Do what?"

            "Know that I was just about to call you and beat me to it?"

            "Blair, nothing mystical about it, I guess I've just been hanging around the two of you for too long."  

            "Any news about who did this to Jim?"

            "Forensics just got done with the scene.  The suspect had to have been a sharpshooter, no one else could have made the shot form where we think the shooter was standing.  We were able to trace the bullets to a specialty outfit in California.  We're trying to reach the owner now.  If it were anyone else but Jim, they would've been killed.  I'm in the process of convincing the lab staff that Jim must've dropped something on the floor of the truck at the time of the shooting, leaned over to get it and was _extremely_ lucky.  How else could he have avoided being shot?"  The anxiety from having to cover for the pair crept subtly into the Captain's voice.

            "It seems weird, though, that the shooter knew where Jim was going to be, when I don't think Jim even knew where he was going."  Blair paused for a moment to consider that thought.

            "Is that the route that Jim usually takes home?"

            "Not often, but once in awhile when he's coming from the University and there's traffic on Green Street, I guess.  It would've been a long shot, no pun intended, if they were waiting for him to drive past." 

            "You're right.  We need to take a closer look at Jim's car.  Maybe the shooter had help in tracking Jim's movements."  Simon wished he had asked the forensic team to do a more thorough check when he had been at the garage earlier that evening.  _Would've saved some time and trouble._

            "Like some kind of electronic surveillance?"

            "Yeah.  I need to talk to Forensics again and I'll get back to you.  Oh, by the way, how are you holding up?"

            "Okay, considering.  I'm getting used to living through concussions, you know.  I'll talk to you later, Simon.  Thanks for everything."

            "Don't mention it."  With those words, the Captain hit the 'End' button on his phone to dial the Forensics lab.  Both of the men knew how much looking out for the other meant.  Keeping it light just helped the both of them deal with the situation.

            Blair hung up the phone and tried not to think about the oppressive pain that was encircling his brain right now.  He was saving his pain pills until he _really_ needed them.  Until then, he needed to be able to think straight.

Section 58:

            During the night I continually had dreams about the donut shop.  Thinking about what I should have done.  Those piercing eyes and the hatred that flowed from the masked shooter like lava.  That poor girl who never had a chance.  The terrified patrons on the floor.    _No, this wasn't just a random act of violence.  There was a deliberate-ness about it. And the fact that Jim and Blair were involved did not seem to be surprising to the shooter……  It was expected._

            I woke up with a mission in mind.  I quickly got dressed in the last remaining tee shirt that I had with me and pulled on the same jeans I had been wearing for days now.  _God, it seemed like months.  _I padded out to the living room and saw Blair sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and a hand placed on his forehead, as if he were trying to hold his brain in his skull.  His head must be killing him.  I sat down next to him and started rubbing his temples.  It seemed to work last time.  He groaned in what I hoped was relief.

            "Blair, this is going to seem weird to you…."

            "You know every time you start a sentence with that, I know you're going to tell me something that neither Jim or the Captain would appreciate.  Am I right?  

            "Um, yeah.  I guess so.  I dreamt about the donut shop.  The shooter knew that you and Jim were going to be involved in the case.  It was if he set it up to force you to become involved."

            "I think you may be right.  There were a lot of little things that didn't make sense.  Killing that girl for no reason.  For such a small amount of money.  They left enough forensic evidence to show their prowess, but not enough to track them down exactly.   Make us work for it.  Professionals, that's for sure.  Jim probably had a lot of this worked out already, he usually does.  I'm going to see Jim and talk with Simon.  Do you want to come?"  Blair started to get up, but faltered.  "I guess my balance hasn't returned yet."

            "I should make sure that you don't fall flat on your face."

            "That would be most appreciated."

Section 59:

            Jim's body protested only slightly less than the past few days as he attempted to get out of bed.  He had to get out and _do_ something.  Anything.  All of this sitting around was getting him nowhere._  The terrorists from the donut shop are still out there, not to mention the shooter who tried to kill me.  And what was this "scrape" Blair had eluded to in their conversation last night.  That kid always seemed to manage to get into trouble.  Being in the hospital and leaving Blair vulnerable_…  Jim swallowed down the shudder that ran through his body.  He couldn't let that go on.  He stood up and waited for the wave of vertigo to pass.  Anything that was wrong with him would have to wait until he figured out what the hell was going on.  He carefully removed his IV with the practiced hand of a medic and an on-again-off-again patient.    He shuffled over to the closet and found the remainder of the clothes that he had left from his previous attempt at escape.  

            As he pulled on a long-sleeve button down shirt, he paused.  The familiar footfalls of his Captain echoed in his ears.    He finished his task and waited for the man to appear and launch into his "What the hell do you think you're doing?" speech.  Jim sat down on the edge of the bed as he tried to pull on his white sport socks without setting off waves of pain in his head.

            "Ellison!  What the hell?!…." Simon started to bellow as he entered the hospital room.

            "Simon, don't bother.  I already know what you're going to say.  I have to figure all of this out, and  then I'll take some time off and recover, okay?  I'm the only one who can do this."

            "Jim, getting yourself more injured is _not _going to help anyone.  Not you and not Blair.  Do you understand me, Ellison?"  He glared at Jim, but knew that no matter what he said the stubborn detective was going to do what he wanted anyway.

            Jim got up from the bed very deliberately and walked slowly to the door.  "I'll figure this out and then I'll rest, I promise."

            "Yeah, I bet you will."  Simon knew better than to waste his breath on the Sentinel.  His protective instincts overruled all other reason.

Section 60:

            By the time that Blair and Max had arrived at the hospital, Simon had been there for close to an hour.  Blair found him sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs that only hospitals have, glaring at the wall in Jim's empty room.

            "Um, Simon?  Is there something you want to tell me?"

            "Your partner has decided to sign himself out AMA.  Something about wanting to find out about what's going on, something about how he was the only one who could."  Simon hissed the words out.                         

            "Simon, tell me you're not surprised. Do you know where he went?…Ohhh."  Blair sat down as a wave of dizziness fuzzed his vision.

            "Don't tell me that you still feel like shit."

            "Umm, okay, I won't.  But, _I_, of course, will not let that stop me."  His head was starting to pound again. Maybe he should've stayed in bed.

            "You shouldn't be encouraging him in this."  The Captain spoke towards Max.

            "Sir, I am just following orders.  I intend to at least keep him out of trouble."  Max said as straight as she could manage.

            "Good luck with that.  Trouble follows him around like a lost puppy, only not as cute."  With those words, the Captain stood up and strode out of the room.  If he ran into Jim or Blair again anytime soon, he would have to scream.  

            "Okay, then.  To the Batmobile, Robin."  He was definitely not feeling like himself.  But this wasn't unpleasant, so he decided to follow this giddy line of thought.  

            "Holy headaches, Batman.  Whatever you say."

            Blair heard himself laughing hysterically.  He _definitely_ should have stayed in bed.

Section 61:

             Jim found himself back at the donut shop, feeling like he was attending a funeral of sorts.  Everything was still and quiet.  He took down the yellow "Police Line- Do not cross." tape from across the front entrance, opened the door and entered.  The pervasive sweet smell of sugar and filling swirled around him, but he filtered that out.  He was looking for something more, something out of place.  He was able to pick up the gunpowder residue odor again, and the familiarity of it tugged at the back of his mind.  He flashed to a dream.

_He could barely hear what he was saying over the din of the helicopter warming up.  Things seemed to be too loud.  He knew he should be doing something to stop it.  Something bad was about to happen._

_"Ellison, you with me here?  If this operation doesn't go smoothly, I want you to give this to my brother, okay?  His name's Michael.  He's in Los Angeles."  The Captain pushed a small pocket watch into Jim's hands.  "Promise me."  _

_"I promise…"_

            So, it _was_ Army issued firepower.  Or at the very least, something very similar.  Blair _had_ been right.  _Holleran.  Captain Brian Holleran.  What did he have to do with this?_  He was the munitions expert and a sharpshooter from his Black Ops team.  But he died with the rest of them in the crash.  He wasn't sure what to do with that thought now, but filed it away in his mind for future reference.  

            He walked into the back room where that kid, Daniel Waters, was hiding when his co-worker, Gail Herman, was shot.  He saw faint scuffmarks where Daniel must have crouched under the work counter.  Fingerprints where he held onto the table.  The ridges stood up like little mountains in the flour on the tabletop.   He heard the high-pitched whine of electronics and traced it back to a phone line, not five feet away from where Daniel was hiding.  The phone unit itself was missing.    He looked around for any surveillance cameras, anything that could possibly tell him what had happened out of the immediate line of sight from the cash register's camera.  No such luck.  He would have to get Claire to release the surveillance tape of what they had and see if he could get anything from that.  

            He looked down at the floor and perceived a footpath that seemed to suggest pacing.  He wasn't sure if that would be the necessary work path the bakers made everyday, or it was from another reason.   The line traveled from just inside the door to just in front of the work counter.  It seemed to be one set of footfalls, but it was hard to tell.  Only one person may have been on-duty that morning as the baker.  There was a bit of a swirl into where the footprints from Daniel were located under the counter.  _Interesting_.  He would have to talk to the manager to find out what the standard procedures were for baking at the restaurant.   

            Jim decided he would try another sense to see if he could determine anything else from the scene.   He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and blew out slowly, trying to center himself as Blair had taught him countless times before.  He drew air in equally as slow and opened up hi senses to pick up anything out of the ordinary.  He let his instincts guide him.  They were rarely wrong.  

Section 62:

            Knowing Jim's motives, we both knew where we could find him.  I pulled into the parking lot of the donut shop and nodded as I saw Jim's truck parked nearby.

            "Looks like we found our man."

            "Oh man, oh man, my head hurts. _ Hurts_.  We need to see what the hell's going on."  Blair pitched drunkenly out of the car and staggered to his feet.  I ran around to the other side of the car and helped him out.  

            "Blair, you really should be at home resting.  You look terrible."

            "Well, that's okay then, because I feel terrible.  Need to find Jim.  C'mon."  He started pulling me towards the shop.  The yellow police line tape was flapping in the slight breeze that swirled around us.    I could feel the death in the shop like it was a tangible thing.  It surrounded all of us, as if challenging us to dispel it.

            I deposited Blair on a nearby chair and made my way into the kitchen area where I heard Jim scratching around.  I looked through the porthole in the door and saw Jim crouched down on the floor, head cocked, staring into space.  I put my hand on the door to open it and I received a very strong flash.

_"He said that all they were going to do was rob the place, wave the guns around a little bit.  That's all.   How am I going to get out of this?"  The boy that I saw at the shop earlier was pacing around the back room murmuring to himself.  _I stood quietly and waited for something else to happen.  I instinctively knew in order to stay in the vision that I could not react emotionally to what I was seeing.  I had to remain detached.  I could figure it all out later.  

_The boy and I both flinched when we heard the gunshot.  I ducked at the same time that he did.  He reached for the phone just as the door swung open and crashed against the side of the preparation table.  _

_"Ah, there you are, Danny boy.  Ever the courageous one, aren't we?  I took care of your problem.  Don't ever, _ever,_ let that happen again."  The man in black with those intense eyes poked Danny in the leg with the butt of his automatic weapon.  "What we do is _our_ business, not your girlfriends, not your neighbor's, not anyone's.  You understand?  Next time, it'll be you.  You are only allowed one mistake."_

_"I understand, Michael.  I'm sorry.  Really, I am.  Never happen again."  Danny whimpered as he slowly stood up with his hands up, palms facing the man in black._

_"Stay here.  We're almost done here."  Michael ripped the phone out of the wall and took it with him.  "You won't be needing this."_

_"Whatever you say."_

_Michael crashed back out into the main store area.  _

"Max?  Max, you alright?"

"Holy, shit.  I saw what happened back here. The man in black is named Michael.  He knew that kid Daniel.  Michael killed the girl on purpose.  Because she knew something."  I sat down hard on the floor.  Somehow it made me feel a little better.

            Blair turned and looked at his partner.  "Jim, you okay?  I come in here and find the both of you zoned out."

            Jim blinked and slowly rose from his crouched position.  "Blair?  Blair.  Good to see you.  Feeling okay?  You don't look so good."

            "You don't look so hot either, Jim.  Looks like we're the walking wounded."  Blair cracked a smile and squeezed Jim's shoulder.  Jim responded by nodding and smiling back.

            "I think we may have just found our missing link."  Jim turned to me.  "What did you say about the guys you _saw_?"

            "That kid, Daniel, was back here when everything went down.  He is a friend of that poor girl who was killed.  He may have been something more.  He knew to come back here, like he knew what was going to happen.  At least partly.  He seemed pretty upset about the whole thing.  Like it wasn't going the way he thought it was.  One of the guys in black, whom I get the impression was in charge of this operation, is named Michael.  Michael said something about a girlfriend knowing something and that he'd taken _care _of it."   I drew in a breath and looked over at the two men.   Blair was starting to waver on his feet so he leaned against the wall. 

            "There were a few other things that I noticed.  Maybe you could help explain them, too.  The phone jack there had a phone attached to it recently.  The line still has service.  The swirl marks on the floor here", he pointed to faint flour marks on the floor, "….seem to indicate someone was pacing.  Those marks on the floor would support someone in here waiting for the activity in the shop to occur."  Jim told us.  He took a second and stared back at the phone jack.  He nodded to himself and then was quiet as looked back at Blair and me.

            I relayed the whole flash that I had seen and it seemed to support what Jim had observed.  Although as hard as I looked, I couldn't see any swirl marks on the floor.  He must have really good eyesight.  

            "I wish that I could've seen him.  Maybe it would spark something else to look into.  Style of dress, type of weapon, stance, something like that.  He does sound military, maybe a wanna-be.  Maybe we should go down to the station and check the database for matches, maybe meet with the sketch artist.  We couldn't use _any_ of this for evidence, but at least we'd have something to work from."  Jim pushed open the door back into the main area of the store.  I nodded and followed him out.  

            _Why would _Jim_ be zoned out?_

Section 63:

            Blair was feeling definitely tipsy and was fighting very hard to stay vertical and conscious.  He should've stayed in bed.  Maybe Max would come with him.  He smiled slightly at that thought.  He knew he's have to come up with some sort of cover story for Jim's behavior in the store, but somehow he knew that Max would understand.  He and Jim had accepted her abilities relatively easily, hadn't they?  _That would certainly count for something._  He knew that he was starting to babble, so he tried to focus on something else.  He followed Jim and Max out into the main area of the store and looked around_.  It was eerie, being there with no one else.  Death hanging in the air._

            "Let's get out of here, Chief."

            Blair nodded and followed Jim and Max out to the car.

Section 64:

            Jim's mind was reeling after everything that he has experienced at the donut shop.  It virtually smacked of familiarity, but he couldn't put his finger on it, so to speak.   A surge of relief washed over him as Blair opened the door to the loft.  He filed right upstairs to lie down on his bed. He kicked his shoes off onto the floor, which he normally wouldn't do, but he really didn't seem to care at that moment.  He didn't bother to change into sweats before he fell asleep, his military precision lost in exhaustion.

            He kept coming back to the jungle, where everything in his life changed.  Incacha was there, but he wasn't talking or even looking at Jim.  Everything was quiet and still, unnaturally so.   His teammates were moaning in pain and asking for help.  Jim found that he couldn't move from where he was in the clearing.  Blair walked into the scene.  He walked by Incacha and the helicopter wreckage and straight towards Jim.

            _"Jim, what are you doing here?  Can't you see that they need help?  Why don't you help them?"_

_            "I can't move, Chief.  I don't think I can save them."_

_            "Remember him, Jim."_

Section 65:

            I sat at the kitchen table with a mug of hot coffee in my hands, enjoying the warmth that it was spreading into my palms and fingers.  God, _everything_ hurt.  I tried really hard not to think about the damned donut shop anymore. My brain was fried about the whole thing, from trying to figure out what happened to the flashes and the headaches.  Blair was conked out on the couch.  It seemed all of us go from crisis to crashing to crisis again, no middle ground.  Rainier U. seemed to be a million miles away right now.  I didn't even care about the classes I would be responsible for in just a few weeks.  I had to, _needed to_, get this whole thing resolved before I could move on.  I looked over at Blair.  He seemed to have a peaceful expression on his face and I was glad.  I hoped he was getting a little reprieve from all of this.  

            What had happened to me, to us, in the space of one week was nothing short of amazing.  I was pulled into another world of which I knew nothing.  It did feel kind of good that I was able to help someone with _my_ _abilities_.     I was never able to do that before.  Because what difference did it make to someone about something that happened in the past?  Things had changed so much in my thinking about my life.  On top of that, I was falling for Blair.  I fervently hoped that it wasn't only because we've been through hell together.  I knew that it was more than that for me, but what about him?  I just didn't know how he felt about me.  And now, of course, was not the time to ask.   _I will need to know._

Section 66:

            Jim woke with a start and sat upright.  He knew what he needed to do.  He ran down the stairs and started pulling drawers open in every cabinet and desk, looking for it.  _The watch.  Where the hell did he put that damned watch?  It was the key to everything and he had it the whole time.  _A snatch of another dream came back to him.

_"Ellison, are you with me?  If this operation doesn't go smoothly, I want you to give this to my brother, okay?  His name's Michael.  In Los Angeles." Boss pushed a small pocket watch into Jim's hands.  "Promise me."  _

_"I promise…"_

            Was that the connection he was looking for?  It was connected to him the whole time.  _The sniper attacks had to be connected to the donut shop murder.  They were too deliberate and perfect not to be._  Just then, he found what he was looking for.  He pulled out a small scrap of cloth enclosing a badly tarnished pocket watch.  He laid it gently in the palm of his hand as he slowly unwrapped it.  Blair and Max stood quietly behind him.  Jim ran his sensitive fingertips over the front case of the watch and felt the detailed engravings.  This was quality work.  He heard a small _snick_ as he depressed the button on the side of the case that exposed the watch face.  It was unscathed, even after all this time.  He turned the watch slightly to read the inscription on the inside of the front cover.  "To Lieutenant Charles Holleran for Outstanding Bravery, U.S. Army, Special Forces, Alpha Company, August 4, 1952"

            "We're looking for a Michael Holleran.  We need to start a search in Los Angeles from 1975."

Section 67:

            An hour later, Jim and Blair were sitting at the computer searching the NCIC database for any matches to a Michael Holleran or a Charles Holleran in Los Angeles and vicinity since 1970, the furthest back the computer had records in the database.  

            "Damn this computer!  It's so slow."  Jim burst out as he slammed his hand down on the top of his desk.

            "Jim, relax.  It's going as fast as it usually does.  It has to search through millions of files.  And please don't make so much noise.   My head still kind of hurts, you know."

            "Sandburg, you're not the only one in pain, here."  He started to raise his voice, then stopped.  "Sorry.  I'll express my frustration a little bit quieter next time. "  He sat in silence again for a few seconds.

            Blair unconsciously chewed on the end of his pen as he waited for the computer to produce some leads.  Finally, a listing of all matches showed up on the screen.  He depressed the "Print Screen" button and waited for the printer to produce the means by which they would catch their killer.

            As Blair started to review the list, Jim snatched it out of his hands and began his frenetic search for a particular match.  "Hey!  I was reading that."

            "You can read it in a second, Chief.  I know what I'm looking for."  He quickly scanned the list for anyone connected to a Captain Brian "Boss" Holleran, U.S. Army.  He couldn't suppress a thought that rose unbidden from the back of this mind.  _This was all because of me.  _

_            One name_.  Lt. Michael James Holleran, 32, dishonorably discharged from the U.S. Army, September 23, 2002 for assaulting a superior officer.  _Brother to Brian Holleran, son of Charles Holleran._  Connected to Jim by death.  _The cashier's death and Boss's death in the jungle eight years ago.    _

"We've found our man.  Let's go."  Jim stood up, printout in hand, and strode purposefully out of the bullpen.

Section 68:

            "Jim, don't you think we should let the Captain in on this?  Get a little backup?  We're in no shape to have a run-in with this guy."  _Man, do I sound like Simon or what?_

            "This was all because of me.  Calculated, deliberate, specifically for me to see and understand.  It just took so long for me to see it."  Jim stopped in front of the elevator and depressed the 'Down' button.

            "What are you talking about?  How can that be?"  Blair could tell that the heavy mantel of guilt was again around the Sentinel's shoulders.

            "He's been watching me, looking for patterns and ways to get at me, subtly.  I didn't even pick up on it until a little while ago.  I think everything is connected to him.  The donut shop, the sniper attack on me and you, everything."

            "Why?"  Blair asked quietly, as he looked at the floor of the elevator.

            "I guess he thinks that I shouldn't have been the one to survive in the crash.  Hell if I know what's going on in this lunatic's head.  He holds me responsible for his brother's death.  How the hell should I know?"  Jim clenched his jaw as he stared at the changing floor numbers on the panel while the elevator continued its descent.  

            "Jim, you know that you couldn't have saved anyone in that crash.  You were lucky to have survived yourself.  It's not your fault.  It's some crazy militant who thinks that exacting revenge will somehow make him feel better."  He put his hand on Jim's shoulder in a vain effort to comfort the taller man.

            "I should have caught on to this sooner.  He was leaving clues all over the place.  Ones that I should have seen."

            "C'mon, Jim.  The crash was eight years ago.  Why would you think that it would be showing up now?"

            "Because it always seems to come back." 

Section 69:

            Jim and Blair had dragged me into the police station with them this morning and forced me to sit down with a sketch artist and work out the man I saw in my original flash in the coffee shop.  The man we now knew as _Michael Holleran_.   Jim said he just wanted to confirm things.  He had already pulled a few strings to get a copy of Holleran's Army personnel file.

            When I had finished with the artist, I went up to the seventh floor in an attempt to find Jim and Blair.  The receptionist told me that they had just left.  Great.  Well, I probably should go to the University anyway and pick up my books and slides for my upcoming class.

            I took a taxi over the University and had the driver drop me at the bookstore.  The clerk said that my materials had been delivered to Hargrove Hall, B-12.  _Blair's office.  _  I guess he made arrangements to pick up all of our materials together.  That was nice.  I wandered slowly down the hallway to Blair's office, wondering if this would all get resolved soon.  I needed to wrap my mind around other things.  Namely my class, my research, my grant, and important things like the rest of my life.  I tried the door handle of Blair's office and found it was unlocked.  I opened the door slowly and peeked in.  The room was dark and quiet.  I flipped on the light switch and sucked in my breath as I saw a figure sitting at Blair's desk!

            I backed out of the room and turned to run down the hallway when the person had impossibly made it around the desk and close enough to me to grab my shoulders.  I opened my mouth to scream but was assailed by a flash.

            _"Report!"  The now familiar intense flashing eyes glared at a younger man, dressed in black fatigues.  They were both standing in a nearly dark warehouse.  Large storage boxes and skids were strewn about.  The air was oppressive with humidity._

_            "Sir, our intelligence shows that Ellison has a roommate, a Blair Sandburg, who works at Rainier University in the Anthropology department.  Sandburg also works with Ellison in Major Crimes."  _

_            "Good work.  Anyone else?"_

_            "Ellison is seen with the Captain of his division, Simon Banks.  He has a son who is in his sophomore year at Cascade Senior High School."_

_            "Possibilities there.  Anything else?"_

_            "There's a girl, we haven't yet been able to find out her name.  She's staying with Ellison and Sandburg. The neighbors didn't know anything.   We're still investigating."_

_            "Good work, soldier. I expect a status report in twelve hours."_

_            "Yes, sir!"  The younger soldier saluted, spun around on his heels in military precision and strode away from the older man._

            Oh god, it was him!  _I'm screwed!_  I tried to struggle but I began to fade out as I felt a sharp prick on my upper arm. _Shit!_

            "You'll do…." was the last thing I heard before I slid into the darkness….


	4. Chapter IV

Section 70:              

            Jim had a death grip on the wheel of his truck as he and Blair drove to the last known address of Michael Holleran, as listed in his military record.  He didn't actually expect to find him, but he needed some direction.  He pulled up to the front of the dark and obviously abandoned house.  It had probably been a bright yellow at one time, but now had faded to a dirty off-white.  Paint peeled off in large flakes and many of the roofing shingles were missing.  He looked over at Blair who was working on trying to get out of the truck.  Jim placed his hand gently on Blair's chest and pushed him back into the seat.  "You stay.  Keep an eye out in case we need backup."  Blair nodded and smiled slightly back at him.  

            Jim pulled his gun out of the holster and pointed it towards the afternoon sky as he crept towards the house.  He ignored the pain in his head as he extended his hearing to detect anyone in the house.  He heard a steady dripping of water, a _skritching_ noise that he would rather not investigate as it was probably vermin in nature, but no heartbeats or anything else that would indicate human activity. _Thank God the buzzing didn't start again. _ He was experiencing a bit of a _heebie jeebie_ feeling, of course he would never tell Blair that.  He'd never hear the end of that one.   He did know to listen to his instincts.  He learned that lesson in the jungle from Incacha.  He stood before the front door and waited.  What the hell did he expect to happen?  Did he think that this house was booby-trapped, waiting for him to stumble into it?  _Why not?_   Holleran has been two steps ahead of him this whole time.  He touched the doorknob and began to turn it.  It opened with minimal resistance.  

            He stepped into the darkened room and scanned it for anything out of the ordinary.  The curtains were covered in a thick layer of dust and were hanging off the rods in many places.   There were a few pieces of scattered and broken pieces of furniture and some paper strewn around.  No obvious signs of recent human occupation.  He walked cautiously into the kitchen.  The stale smell of old food and the metallic tang of rusty water filled the small galley kitchen.  The cabinets were left hanging open and empty.  He backed out slowly and walked further down the hall.  The bedrooms and bathroom were all empty and dirty.  Nothing unusual…yet.  He was sure that there had be something, some sign of where to go next.  Holleran was an expert of covering his tracks, but he'd never dealt with a _Sentinel _before.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  _There.  That was something_.  He caught the edge of something not right.  Something chemical, something….explosives, gun oil, and something else that he couldn't quite place.  He found the door to the basement and opened it.  A stronger wave of the odor hit him and he wavered on his feet.  _No, don't lose it now.  Get past it.  It can't hurt you_.  He kept up the internal dialog in an effort to stay focused on his task.  It could mean stopping all of this and Blair could be safe.  

            In the relative darkness, he could make out makeshift tables and stools.  A lot of scuff marks on the floor.  A lot of traffic.  _Planning Central_ for Holleran and his team? He ran his fingers over the surface of a shelf against a back wall.  It had no dust.  Something Holleran missed.  He moved the shelf and found some papers that had fallen behind.  Very strange that they would be so careless.  The papers contained the words _Simon Banks- 56 Reynolds Ave., Apt. 3, Daryl Banks- Cascade Senior High School, Blair Sandburg- Rainier University, Hargrove Hall B-12, 852 Prospect Ave_.  He turned around sharply and started back towards the stairs when he heard a small click followed by a steady ticking noise.  _Shit!  It wasn't carelessness, he wanted me to know that they knew everything about me.   Before he killed me._   Jim's mind seemed eerily at peace as his body propelled him at a speed he didn't really know he was capable of.  He made upstairs and out the front door in three heartbeats.  He leapt off the porch and onto the lawn just as the house exploded into a giant fireball.    

            He felt his head connect with the ground as the wave of heat passed over him.  

Section 71:

            I woke up in a haze of disorientation and pain.  I blinked several times and began to panic as I realized that I couldn't see anything.  I was blindfolded.  My arms were tied tightly behind and my shoulders were beginning to ache from the strain.  I determined that I was sitting upright on a hard chair and that my feet were tied to the chair legs.  I tested the bonds and found that they didn't give at all.  _Shit!  What happened? They drugged me?   _I shook my head in an effort to clear my thoughts and try to calm down.  Panic was not going to get me out of this.  I wasn't aware of any sounds except my pounding heart, so at least I seemed to be alone.  The whole place virtually reeked of death.  I knew where I was.   I was with the man with the intense eyes.  _The killer_.   

            I decided that since I had no hope of working myself out of these ropes or whatever they were, I would play possum.  If they thought that I was still out, I would be able to delay whatever they had planned.  _Maybe_.  My heart hammered against my ribs as I tried not to think about what they would do to me.  _What they did to that poor girl_.  I let my head fall forward and I tried to think about what to do.  

            I took some deep breaths and tried to slip into a meditative state, hoping it would help me come up with some insight.  I followed the instructions Blair had given me before when we were trying to find Jim.  _Use it to find me_.  

            I found myself in the peaceful pool and heard the waterfall cascading down behind me.  I wished desperately that I could transport my body here and be free of my current situation.  _You'll get out of this, somehow_.  I strode slowly out of the water, still wishing that I could prolong my stay here and not face what was _out there_.  My feet slipped slightly on the grass as I climbed up the hillside and into the familiar clearing.  I sat down and waited for inspiration.  _For something to happen._  

            I must have dozed off for a bit because it seemed to be some time before I noticed a small grey and white wolf sitting on the outskirts of the clearing.  He was just looking at me and waiting for something.  _Yeah, I know how you feel._  I decided it was a good idea to just stay and wait.  The wolf had the right idea.  I let the warmth of the sun penetrate into my skin and relaxed my muscles.  Was it possible to meditate inside a trance?

Section 72:

            Blair's head snapped up in surprise as the explosion propelled Jim off the porch and rocked the truck.  _Jim!  _He flew out of the truck and crouched next to Jim who had just started to shake his head and try to get up.  

            "Jim?  Are you okay?"  Blair helped to lift the larger man to a sitting position.

            "Yeah, I guess so.  I think my brain's been rattled around enough now."  He stopped and looked at Blair.  "He knew I would come here.  He left 'clues' for me to find.  He wanted me to know that he had a bead on all of you at all times.  That he could take any of out whenever he damn well wanted to.  He also didn't intend on me getting out there."

            "Man, I'm glad you did.  I would have had a lot of trouble explaining this to Simon."  Blair smiled and helped Jim to his feet.  "Are you sure that you're okay?"

            "Yeah.  When this is all over, I think that we will have to find the most remote cabin and camp out for about three months.  Cut the chances of contact with the crazies."  Jim shook his head again and walked to the truck.  He opened the passenger side door and sat down.  "We'll wait here until the black and whites show up.  Then we'll have to fill in Simon."  Jim laid his head on the headrest and closed his eyes.  

            "I was afraid you'd say that."  Blair leaned up against the side of the truck next to Jim, trying to think about what to do next.    

            About an half an hour later, Blair began polishing his glasses on the bottom of his shirt for the tenth time as he watched the heated discussion going on between Jim and Simon on the front lawn of the destroyed house.  Forensics and several other members of Major Crime were sifting through the debris for any clues about the detonation trigger, type of explosive, or anything they could use to tie this to the coffee shop murder.  Jim had explained the chain of evidence to everyone, obfuscating a bit to help maintain continuity with more widely accepted means of gathering information.  He purposely left out Max's role and knew that Simon wouldn't necessarily bring it up in the large group.  Blair was sure that she was one of the subjects that Jim and Simon were _discussing_ loudly.     

_Max!  _He hadn't heard from her all day.  He quickly dialed her cell phone to check in.  It switched over to voicemail after three rings.  He then called the station and talked to Rhonda.  She told him that she'd hadn't seen Max in awhile and that she had left for the University.  Something about picking up her books or something.  He thanked her and hit 'end' on his phone.  He had had the bookstore drop her materials in his office so he had hoped that she found them okay.  As soon as Jim was finished, he would suggest that they stop by the University to check up on her.  And to thank her for everything that she's done for them.  He also hoped that he would be able to follow up on the 'first date' that he had promised her.  Maybe when all of this was over.  He felt a little better having sorted all of that out in his head, which was beginning to throb again.  He wished he had remembered to bring some of his homeopathic medicines with him, but they were on the nightstand in his room right now.  The growing presence of pain seemed to leave a feeling of tension in the pit of his stomach.  _Something wasn't right_.  Maybe he'd try her cell phone again.  

Section 73:

            The wolf seemed to be uneasy but never really looked at me.  He paced around my vicinity and seemed to be getting more and more agitated.  I tried to maintain my calm as much as I could, but his unease was rubbing off.  I gave up on the meditation and stood up.  I walked over to the wolf and put out my hand.  He smelled it tentatively and then began to lick my fingers lightly.  I sat down again and the wolf nuzzled my hand until I started to stroke his back.  He sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes.  "I know that this is all make believe in my head and maybe I needed something to take care of while the rest of me worries about my safety in the real world, but a wolf?  Where did that come from?"  

I stopped talking to the now dozing animal as I noticed the black jaguar I had seen before when I was looking for Jim had come out of the forest and into the clearing.  He paced back and forth in front of the wolf as if he were guarding him.   _Okay_.  If the jaguar represented Jim, the wolf represented….Blair.    Jim was trying to protect Blair from what…or who.  I knew who it was.  The same psycho who kidnapped me…out there.  _Cool_.    "Alright, guys.  I know this is silly, but here goes.  Come find me!  I think that I'm in some sort of basement or warehouse, somewhere close, I think.  Who knows, though.  I could've been out for a long time.  But if this guy wants Jim and Blair so bad, he wouldn't go too far away.  Makes sense, right?"  The jaguar glanced in my direction once in awhile, but did not seem to acknowledge my dialogue.  The wolf continued to doze, sighing once or twice.  Somehow, I knew they weren't on my trail.  I sighed and prayed that whatever happened, would happen soon.  I couldn't say here forever.

Section 74:

            Blair's headache had gotten progressively worse and he had climbed into the truck and closed his eyes in an effort to dispel it.  He had gotten nowhere trying to find out where Max had gone.  The bookstore manager said that she had been there and he sent her to Blair's office.  The anthropology secretary said that she saw her, but didn't remember seeing her leave.  A new sense of urgency bubbled up from somewhere and his eyes snapped open.  He needed to get to his office right now!

            He ran over to Jim and Simon, who were both starting into the staring contest that they usually did when negotiations broke down.  

            "What do you want, Sandburg?" Simon said as he continued to glare at Jim.  

            "Uh, Jim.  I think we need to get over to the university.  I have a bad feeling.  It's about Max."

            "Not another bad _feeling_. Can't any of you get any _hard evidence_ for once?"  Simon stormed off in the direction of a few members of the Forensics team.  

            "Man, what's got his knickers in a bunch?"

            "I think he's had just about enough of all of this _mumbo jumbo_ as he calls it.  We need to get some evidence against this guy and shut him down for good."  Jim stopped, as his eyes seemed to go out of focus.  A minute later, he blinked and started to talk again.    "Jones in Forensics found some sort of weapons cache not too damaged in the explosion.  They may have at least an initial match on residue and a gun barrel they can test against the bullet from the victim.  He just briefed Claire and Simon."

            "Great.  Now we have a leg to stand on.  Let's go.  We need to get over to the university.  I can't find Max."

             "Do you think something's happened to her?"

            "I'm not sure yet.  I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something's happened.  I just want to be _so_ wrong about this."  Blair climbed into the driver's side of the truck and Jim acquiesced and climbed into the passenger side.   He pushed his hair behind his ear and turned on the ignition.

            "Chief, I hope you're wrong, too.  She seems to be almost as good as you in finding trouble."  Jim reached up for his seatbelt and pulled it down until he attached it to its mate.  

            That's what Blair was afraid of.

Section 75:

            I awoke in that dark hellhole that I had so hoped was all just a bad dream.  My arms had become lead weights and I couldn't even feel my legs anymore.  At least I wasn't in pain.   I hoped that wasn't because I was drugged again.  I listened carefully and slowly opened my eyes.  Nobody.  I blew out my breath slowly in relief.  

            A few minutes later, I tensed up and then played asleep again as I heard footsteps clomping down a flight of stairs towards me.  A few minutes later, someone pulled my head up by my hair.  I jerked my eyes open in surprise at the pain.

            "I see we're all nice and awake now.  Do you think you could help me out a little bit?"  The soldier smiled with a sickly sweetness that made my stomach drop into my shoes.  He had dark hair and was wearing green fatigues and sneer that made you want to run far away from him.  His name patch was ripped off.  He ran his fingers down the side of my face and I pulled away in disgust.

            "What do you want?"  I asked defiantly.  _Probably very stupid.  _

"Nothing….much."  His fingers ran down the side of my neck and ran around the rim of my shirt collar.  I swallowed and prayed he would stop.  I was in no position to fight back.

            "Please.  Stop."  I tried to plead.  He just smiled wider.

            "Don't worry, you'll like it."  He ripped the sleeve of my t-shirt off and ran his finger underneath my bra strap.  

            "No….no."  I fought the tears of utter frustration that were forming in the back of my eyes.  They burned with such intensity that I couldn't stop them.  _I wasn't ever going to get out of this.  _

            "Sanchez!  Stop messing with the prisoner.  We need her reasonably intact for when Ellison gets here.  Get back up here!  You're on perimeter watch.  Now!"  A voice bellowed from above the stairwell_.  It was him_.  

            "Yes, sir!"  The soldier dropped his previous line of action and ran back up the stairs.  He turned and looked back at me.  "Don't worry, little lady.  We'll have plenty of time for you later."  He grinned that horrible, blood-freezing sneer again and I shivered.  

            The man from my visions walked slowly and methodically down the stairs and over to the side of my chair.  "I don't believe we've ever been formally introduced.  My name is Lieutenant Michael J. Holleran, U.S. Army.  And you are?"

            "Max."  _Try to make nice.  Might keep you alive longer_.

            "Well, Max, it looks like we're going to be very close friends now.  We seem to have acquaintances in common.  Lt. James Ellison and that sniveling brat Blair Sandburg.  He's never even been in the service you know.  You can never trust civilians.  How do you know the lucky pair?"  He squatted down next to me so close that I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

            "I…I just met them a couple of days ago. That's all.  I work with Blair at the university.  I don't really know them at all."  

            "Then it's a real shame that you got all tied up in this thing, isn't it?  I'm really sorry we had to tie you up and everything, but you can never be too careful.  Won't be too much longer, you know. I left quite an obvious trail for them to follow, but in case they still manage to lose it, I'm sure you wouldn't mind making a phone call.  Would you?"  He patted my hand and stood up again.

            I shook my head and blinked a few tears out of my eyes.  Holleran strode back to the stairwell and ran up the stairs, two at a time.  Then, I lost it.  _I was never getting out of this alive._

Section 76:

            Jim and Blair arrived at Blair's office.  The door was slightly open and the lights were out.  Jim pulled his gun out and slowly pushed the door open completely.  He scanned the room and even in the dark, he could tell no one was there.

            "It's okay, Chief.  No one's here."  He flipped on the lights and looked around.  _Something wasn't right_.   A chair lain on its side, almost innocently.  Jim tried to pin it down when he noticed that slight tang he now associated with the gunpowder residue from the donut shop.  He sighed. 

"_Oh, God_.  He's got her, doesn't he?"  Blair pulled the chair back upright and sat down on it.  He put his hands up to his face and scrubbed his eyes roughly.  

            "I'll call Forensics and Simon.  We need backup."  Jim flipped on his cell phone and made the appropriate calls.

            Jim stood in the middle of the room and took a deep breath.  "That's it, Jim.  Anything out of the ordinary?  Any clues of where they may have taken her?"  Jim ignored the slight buzzing that was building up in the back of his mind.  He willed it away so he could do his job.  He seemed to detect a metallic taste in the back of his mouth and a sharp odor.  It reminded him of metal shop when he was in high school.  The odor of hot metal and ash.  He relayed the information to Blair.

"Where would be a good place to set up shop?  Easy access to the city, lots of space and storage.  Not too many eyes looking in your direction.  I'm thinking Cascade Factory Steel and Metal Supply Company in the manufacturing district.  It's been abandoned ever since the building companies found it was cheaper to import steel from Canada."  Blair had gone into "professor mode".

Jim looked at him.  

"What?"  Blair looked surprised at Jim's look.

"C'mon, Blair.  How would you know that?"  _It did make sense though_.  

"You listen to faculty members on campus enough and you pick up things.  The structural engineering faculty has some definite opinions on the matter."  Blair stood up.  "Let's go.  We have to get Max back."

"Slow down, Chief.  I thought you were always the one about waiting for backup.  I think we're going to need it here.  From what we could tell, he has control of a highly skilled set of mercenaries."  Jim walked around to the back of Blair's desk and put his hand on the back of the chair.  The buzzing suddenly increased to a booming, causing him to cry out in pain and cover his ears.

"What, Jim?  What's the matter?"

"Too loud.  The buzzing.  It's all I can hear."  He let Blair lead him out of the office.  The noise settled down to a more manageable level.  He took his hands off his ears.

"Again?"   Blair looked at him with a mixture of concern and surprise.

"It started when I was in the hospital after the shooting.  It comes and goes.  It hadn't been that bad until just now."  Jim leaned against the cool tile of the hallway wall.

"I remember you told the doctor you heard a buzzing.  Same kind?"  Blair waited for Jim's nod in response.  "Did it only occur after the shooting and in the hospital?"

Jim nodded again.  "And right now.  I had hoped it went away.  It covers up my ability to hear just about anything else."  

Blair paused for a minute and looked closely at Jim's face.

"Okay, working hypothesis here.  Remember I told you that the bullet that grazed your head was custom-made.  What do you want to bet that they're making them down at the steel company?  Maybe the buzzing's in reaction to the metal or something in the metal."  Jim always liked to watch Blair's trains of thought.  They usually ended up at the right station.

"Like a contaminant?"  Jim was trying to think of what additives they could put into steel.  _Or into bullets_.

"Exactly.  I think you should give your friend Claire a call and see if they analyzed the bullets yet.  You may just be a metal detector now."  Blair seemed quite satisfied with that.

"Great.  Where's the nearest beach?  We can look for coins next."  Jim straightened up as the Forensics team filed past him and into Blair's office.

Blair was already dialing the Forensics lab at the station. 

"Yeah hi, Wanda.  It's Blair.  I wondered if you could do me a quick favor…"Jim tuned out the rest of Blair's conversation with the young lab technician and tried to follow what the forensic analysts inside the office were doing.  He huffed in frustration when they did not pick up anything unusual, even from the back of Blair's chair.  A few minutes later, Blair smiled and hung up the phone.

"They didn't find anything, Blair."  Jim clenched his jaw a little bit tighter in an effort to dispel the tension he felt in the rest of his body.  It didn't work.  It just made his teeth hurt.

"It doesn't matter, Jim.  If you are able to detect silicon and manganese, normally additives put into steel to make into alloys, we're in business.  The bullet they found contained trace amounts of these elements.  Not usual components of bullets, according to Wanda.  I also had her check with the city about what kinds of steel products the Factory Steel and Metal Supply Company produced.  Guess what?  _They produced steel alloys using silicon and manganese.  _It must have permeated the whole place._"  _Blair's features lit up in a small smile.  _Ah, hope is a wonderful thing_.    

"What are we wasting time here for?  We can't wait anymore.  We'll call Simon from the road and let him know what's going on."  Jim took off at a jog down the hall and towards the parking lot.  He ignored his burgeoning headache and sluggish muscles.  Holleran was waiting for him.  

"Whoa, wait for me, Jim."  They didn't wait around long enough to see the bullet recovered from under the desk with Jim's name engraved in it.  

Section 77:

I had no idea how long I had been down there. I lost track of time except to count heartbeats that were pounding in my head.  I desperately tried to get back to the "mediation place", but was unable to feel secure enough to try it.  I decided to try and get as much information as I could about these guys.  Anything that might lend itself to my escape.  I closed my eyes and tried to be open to any flashes that might come from this place.

_"Hey, George, what did your wife pack for your lunch today?  I got tuna casserole or something like that."_

_"Alright guys, our quota's just been raised.  We need to increase production to make our budget for this quarter." _

I let the old activities fade into the back of my mind.  I was waiting for the most recent activities to suface.

_I was then standing in the middle of a large factory.  It smelled of disuse and a sharp metallic odor.  Only frames and shadows of large equipment hulks surrounded the open area where the group was standing._

_"Jiminez, Warren, you cover the north side.  Harrison, Watson, Quarez, you're south.  Sanchez, Cross, you're with me.  We're doing an internal sweep.  Check in every 15 minutes."  Holleran gestured as he spoke, eyes flashing with intent._

_I heard the distinct clicking noises of guns being loaded.  I walked up closer to the men and could look into their eyes.  They were scared.  Scared they weren't going to make it out of this alive_. I wasn't so sure I was either.

_"When Ellison gets here, I want him isolated.  You can do whatever you want with whoever else has the misfortune of being with him.  People have a bad habit of dying around him."  The hatred this man had for Jim was tangible and hung in the air like a foul stench.  "Move out!"_

_"Yes, sir!" The soldiers said in unison. _

 I faded back out.

            What the hell happened to have started all of this?  Well, it didn't matter much because I was only an expendable bait to bring Jim and Blair here.  The hope that they were coming was also the only thing that was going to get all of us killed.   I was covered in a cold sweat and began to shiver slightly.  Oh great, all I need is to go into shock.  Great help I was.  

Section 78:

            Jim, Blair, Simon, Rafe, Megan, and Brown all met just outside the plant's outer fence.  Megan had a pair of binoculars trained on the front entrance to the plant.  Simon was on the phone with the SWAT team advising them as to the best way to get in without being detected.  Blair continued to wring his hands in frustration in not being able to do anything.  Blair had blanched when Simon told them about the bullet they had found in his office.  Jim hadn't reacted at all.  Holleran knew exactly what he was doing_._  Jim started pacing, listening for something to give him some idea of how many were inside and their possible locations.  

            "There!"  Megan shouted.  "I have three perps on the north side of the facility coming towards the front. Probably a perimeter detail.  Fully armed.  Looks like AK-47's.  Probably handguns, too."

            Jim glanced in the direction she pointed and nodded.  "You're right…Uh, you're probably right."  Blair glared at him as Jim leaned against the side of the truck.

            Blair came up and leaned up next to Jim.  "Any idea what's going on in there?"

            "I think I can distinguish about ten heartbeats inside and around the general perimeter.  Some are pretty close together, and some are louder than others, but I think they are pretty well dispersed around the facility.  Should be able to get in no problem.  They're probably expecting us.  So I wouldn't expect to get in, get her, and get out without a fight."  Blair sighed again at Jim's grim description and pushed his hair behind his ear.

            "How are we going to do this, Jim?  They'll kill her."

            "I don't think they will, not right now at least.  Holleran wants me and is using her to get me here."  Jim rubbed his forehead.  __

            The SWAT truck pulled up and the fully armored officers poured out of the back.  The SWAT captain jumped out of the front and ran over to talk to Simon.  The officers began fanning out, looking for cover in the surrounding industrial buildings.  

Jim kept shaking his head in an effort to dispel what he knew was coming next.  

"What's wrong, Jim?"

"That buzzing's back.  That and the chatter from the SWAT headsets is making it very difficult for me to hear what's going on in there."  He said quietly to Blair as he pointed to the facility.

"Alright, Jim.  I know you think I'm a broken record when I say this, but you can filter all of that out.  You know why you have that buzzing noise, imagine that there are those chemicals in the air.  Just imagine them fading away, blowing away on the wind.  The radio static is also nothing.  That also just dissipates into the wind.  All you need to hear is inside the facility.  It's the only thing.  How many heartbeats are there again?"  Jim closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Jim answered. "There are ten, I think.  One seems very far away and it's very fast.  Below street level, maybe in a basement or something.  The others are higher, but controlled.  They are moving slowly around the building."  

Just then a staccato volley of bullets sprayed in their direction.  Jim covered his ears and screamed in pain.  Everyone dove for cover.  

"Jim, okay.  It's okay now…They know we're here."  Blair patted Jim's back.

The SWAT team returned fire as several members of their team cut holes through the fencing surrounding the facility.  The SWAT officers zig-zagged through the grounds towards the building, catching cover where they could.

"Blair!"  Jim's wild eyes betrayed his panic.

"What's the matter, Jim?"  Jim's eyes moved to Blair's mouth.

"I can't hear anything now, except the buzzing.  I can't hear you!"  Jim practically screamed.

Simon crawled over to where Jim and Blair were crouched behind the truck.

"Simon, we have a problem."  Jim kept shaking his head and looking around wildly.    

"You mean besides being a sitting duck with a maniac taking shots at us?"  Simon glared at Blair inches from the ground.  Once again, Blair found himself contemplating the axle of a vehicle.  _How the hell do I keep getting involved in this kind of thing?_

"Jim can't hear anything.  He…" Blair turned to look over at Jim and saw that he was gone.  "Oh, shit."  _Major problem._

Section 79:

            I forced myself to keep my breathing regular and not to panic.  I jumped when I heard weapons' fire outside.  So, they were here then.  I looked up at the ceiling.  Please let Blair be okay.  I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him or any of them.  

            Three black-suited men with what looked like black ski masks and large guns burst into the basement area in which I confined and ran towards me.  I drew in a deep breath to scream but one clamped his hand over my mouth and breathed into my ear.  "Cascade SWAT.  We're here to help you.  C'mon."  The man cut my bonds with a wicked looking knife and pulled me out of the chair.  "Can you walk?"  I nodded numbly.  They looked more like ninjas than police officers except for the large white letters on their backs "SWAT".  The officer dragged me along and up the stairs.  He held me behind him as he and the two other officers sprayed gunfire up the stairs and into the upper hallway.

            "Clear!" one of them said and we all followed up and into the upper hallway.  

            This was too easy.  Holleran wouldn't let them just waltz in here and take me back.  "This has to be a trap.  He wouldn't let me go without a fight."  I turned to the officer he was holding my arm but he didn't react.  I was about to repeat myself as I stumbled and fell into the wall.

            _An officer screamed in utter misery and pain as his lay on the floor, his eyes held the desperation of knowing he was going to die.  I heard screaming in the background and gunfire.  I looked down and saw my foot practically catch on an almost invisible string… _

            "Boobytraps!  This whole place is wired!"  I screamed and pulled away from the officer.  "You have to get out of here, now.  Be careful of the wires on the floor.  He has them rigged like mines!"  The two officers ahead of me whipped around to face me at my warning.  

            Then, three soldiers came around the end of the hallway and opened fire.  The officer directly in front of me went down and I fell on top of him in surprise.  Another officer ran forward and tripped a mine.  The scream and the gurgling noise in his throat as he died would never leave me.  The last officer, who managed to grab me and hold me down, sent a volley of bullets in the soldiers' direction.  They swung back around the corner from where they came.  The officer grabbed me and pulled me back down and around a corner behind us.

             He pushed me up against the wall and whispered, "Stay here."  He seemed to be saying something into his headset.

            "Wait!  Where are you going?"  I asked in desperation.  He wasn't going to leave me here.  Two more SWAT officers came around the corner and saw the injured officers.  They started talking on their communications gear, but I didn't stick around to find out what would happen next.  They were better equipped to deal with those poor men than I was.  I had to follow the other officer.  

            He slowly made his way down the hall, running his fingers along the wall as if it was his lifeline.  He kept shaking his head, as if he were having an argument with himself.  I slid slowly along the same wall towards the officer, hoping to keep him in sight.  He was now my only means of escape, no matter how oddly he acted.    

Section 80:

            Blair kept grinding his teeth in an effort not to ask Simon what was going on again.

            "Look, Sandburg, if you don't get out the way and stop that jaw clinching, I'm going to stop it for you."  Simon said out of his own clinched teeth.

            "Simon, what do you think's going on?"  Blair peered through Megan's binoculars.  The rest of the detectives had suited up with the SWAT team and proceeded into the facility a half and hour before.  

            He put a finger on his headset and listened for a minute.  "So far, they've  reported three enemy casualties.  One of our guys is being brought out now.  A few teams have gone radio silent, so we won't know what's going on for a little while.   And before you ask, no, there's no news on Jim.  He's probably in there."  Simon gestured towards the facility, now under siege from both sides.  "Why don't you take care of directing the EMT's?  You have enough experience with them."  Simon stopped glaring for a minute and almost smiled.  He pulled out his cigar, lit it and stuck it in his mouth.  He began pouring over the schematics strewn over the hood of Jim's truck again in an effort to pinpoint the movements of the officers and perps.   The SWAT Captain was on his comm. gear listening intently for tactical information to relay to Simon. 

            Blair sighed and waited for the EMT's to arrive to take the injured officer to the hospital.  He prayed it wasn't Jim. 

            Two uniformed SWAT team members brought out one severely injured officer who had been shot in the neck.  Blood flowed out of him and over the hands of the officer holding him up and trying to stop the bleeding.  The injured officer briefly picked up his head and his eyes connected with Blair.  It was something in those eyes that told Blair he wouldn't survive the night.  Two other officers brought out a dead comrade, wrapped in a dark blanket.  

            The EMT's arrived and loaded the injured officer after quick assessment and treatment.  One of the EMT's nodded at Blair as he closed the doors to the back of the ambulance.  Blair called the coroner to pick up the other officer who had been laid carefully on the ground.   He saw that the four officers were preparing to return to the facility after they finished speaking with Simon and their Captain.  

            "Have any of you seen Jim Ellison in there?  Did you find out anything about the hostage, Max?"  Blair grabbed the shoulder of the officer closest to him.

            "Sorry, Sandburg.  We didn't see him or the hostage, but the facility's pretty big.  I'm sure Jim's fine.  He can take care of himself.  We've gotta go.  We're still looking for the hostage and for a way to end this.  Keep Jones company until…the coroner arrives, would you?"  The officer jogged off to join his teammates on their way back in.     Blair nodded as he watched the men go back in.  

            _Dammit!_  He felt so helpless bring stuck out here.  He managed to snag a comm. set from the inside of the SWAT van and turned it to the channel he knew they used.  At least he could hear what was going on.  

            _"Alpha One to Base.  Alpha One to Base, do you copy?"_

_            "Copy, Alpha One.  What's your status?"_

_            "Two additional targets sighted and out of action.  Beta Two and Three coming out with prisoners.  Five additional targets believed to be at large.  Next report 15 minutes.  Alpha One out."_

_            "Copy that."_

_            "Gamma Three to Base.  Base, do you copy?"_

_            "Gamma Three, go ahead."_

_            "Base, additional one target acquired and removed from action.  Beta Two, meet at insertion point for deposition of target."_

_            "Beta Two, affirmative."_

_            "Copy, Beat Two.  Gamma Three out."_

_            "Delta One to Base.  We're under heavy fire, quadrant four, level two.  Request support.  All teams be advised, stay clear of tripwires and aware of your surroundings.  There may be hidden explosives.  Use extreme caution."_

_            "Copy, Delta One.  Alpha Team report to quadrant four, level two for assistance. Confirm when in position Alpha Team.  Use extreme caution.  Base out."_

_            "Copy, Base.  Alpha Team out."_

_            "Copy, Base.  Delta One out."_

Blair had a strong feeling that this wasn't going to end so easily.  _They still hadn't located Holleran, Jim, or Max for that matter.  Holleran wouldn't go down without one hell of a fight.  _

            Blair glanced at his watch again.  Twenty minutes had passed since the last transmission.  The SWAT captain was getting a little nervous and decided to break radio silence to try and raise any of his team members.

            _"Base to Alpha One.  Do you copy?"  _Static.

_            "Base to Beta One.  Do you copy.  Base to Beta One.  Copy?"  _Static.

_            "Base to Gamma One.  Base to Gamma One.  Copy?"  _He paused._  "Does anyone read?"  _Static again_.  _Then, a voice.

_            "Base, this is Lt. Holleran, U.S. Army.  We have taken your men.  They are alive, for now.  They are considered POW's and will be treated as such.  I am willing to begin negotiations to secure their safe release with Lt. James Ellison only."_

_            "Uh, copy Holleran.  Stand by."_

_            "Copy, Base. Standing by.  Don't keep me waiting too long."_

_            "Base out."_

_            "Holleran out."_

            "All so civilized.  Either that guy's crazy or he's really crazy. And he has my men.  Captain, did you say that Ellison might be in there?  Any chance they have him too and this is all just a big game to keep us off guard?"  SWAT Captain George Simms was beginning to sweat.  He swiped the back of his hand over his forehead.

            " I think that if they had Ellison, that would've been the first thing he would have told us.  Holleran thinks we have Ellison."  Simon dropped the cigar from his mouth onto the dirt and ground it in with the tip of his shoe. 

            "Uh, sirs?"  Blair was suddenly behind the two Captains.  

            "What?"  They both asked in unison.

            "The whole point of this was to get Jim here.  Jim's here but Holleran doesn't know that.  I need to go in and find Jim.  Let him know what's going on.  We need to find Max before something else happens."

            "Sandburg, I know you want to help…"

            "Look, Simon, I know you're going to give me the 'you're just a civilian observer speech' but you know I'm right.  Jim's the only one who can get us all out of this mess."

            "Look, Sandburg, I know you have a lot of confidence in Ellison and I do too.  I've seen him work, but if Holleran's captured all of my men, then we need to bring in more back-up.  We're talking National Guard now."  Captain Simms told Blair in a condescending tone.

            "Sir, I appreciate your insight, but Simon, uh, Captain Banks, knows of Jim's unique abilities in situations such as these."

            The SWAT Captain was beginning to protest when Simon cut him off.

            "Captain Simms, call for the National Guard.  In the mean time, Civilian Police Observer Sandburg and I are going in.  Sandburg, get Rafe, Connor, and Brown on the horn and apprise them of our situation.  Tell them to set up a perimeter.  Let's go."

            "Good luck, gentlemen."  The SWAT Captain acknowledged.

Section 81:

            I could think about nothing else except to follow the man in black.  He alone held my ability to survive this nightmare.  Of that, I was absolutely sure.  Oh, man, how did I ever get into this?  My head felt like it was stopped up with cotton and my insides were so tight, I felt like I could have exploded at any second.  I continually watched for tripwires or anything that was out of the ordinary.  _Out of the ordinary?  What did I know about any of this shit?  _The officer would periodically look back at me and then gesture for me to follow him.  Like I'd forget to do it or something.  He seemed to be the picture of calm, except that I thought I saw the tip of his gun wavering just a little bit.  _So he is human_.

            I guessed about ten minutes had passed when the officer suddenly stopped and I almost ran into him.  He held his hand on my shoulder as if to tell me to wait.  It looked like he faded out for a second because the focus in his eyes seemed to dull.  He breathed in deeply about three times and then waited.  I heard footsteps and was about to hit the deck again, when I noticed the officer didn't move.  _What the hell was he waiting for?  To be plowed down like the others?  _

He pulled off his black ski mask and I saw it was Jim!  He shook his head again and winced.  He put his head against the wall and waited.  I hoped that he knew what he was doing.  He was all I had now.  

"Jim?…Jim?"  I tried, but he ignored me and waited.

The tip of a gun came around the corner and Jim stood up, grabbed the gun, and put the owner of the gun in an instant headlock.  

"Hey!"  came the pained reply.  Jim instantly released the person who was dressed the same as he was.  It was Simon!  Blair came around the corner right behind.  Jim grabbed him and pulled him down to a crouching position.  

Blair's eyes lit up when he saw me.  "Thank God.  Max, you okay?"  He whispered to me. 

"I'm fine.  Jim got me out."  I breathed a small sigh of relief.  _We may have a chance now.  _

"Man, I hope we can all get out of this now."  Blair turned on the balls of his feet to face Jim who was at the head of our weird procession, all crouching against a wall.  "Jim, can you hear me?"

Jim mouthed something to Blair that I couldn't make out.  He held up four fingers on one hand pointed down to one of the lower levels.   _Was he okay?_  I looked out beyond our hallway and saw that the hallway opened up to a large open area, at least three stories deep.  The odor of burnt metal was strong here.  

"Okay, Jim.  That's okay.  We'll figure out something else."  Blair patted the larger man's arm.  He then turned to Simon and whispered, "Jim still can't hear anything, but he's trying to use his other senses to compensate.  He also thinks there are four bad guys right below us."

"Does he know anything about the hostages?"

_Hostages?  I thought I was the only one. Jim can't hear anything?  Then how…? _I wanted so badly to ask what was going on, but decided now was not the time.  I had to trust that they would get me out of this.  

"Hang on, let me see."  Blair asked a question very slowly to Jim without actually using his voice.  Jim responded with a nod and pointed in the same general direction.  "He says he thinks they're all together below us.  Hey, Simon?"

"Yeah, Sandburg?"

"Why don't I get Max out of here and you and Jim can go play Rambo?  My not having a gun or any tactical training may be a little detrimental to my health."  Blair whispered as he looked over at me.

"Best idea you've had today, Sandburg.  How did I let you talk me into coming in here with you anyway?"  Simon pulled a small handgun out of his boot.  "Here. Take this.  I'll feel better if you do."

Blair looked over at Jim as he held his hand out.  Jim nodded as Blair took the gun and held it out like it was contaminated with _E. coli_ bacteria.  _Oh God, we're in trouble now.  _Blair then held the gun as he was supposed to and shoved it onto the waistband of his jeans.  

_"Neo-hippie witchdoctor…"_ popped into my head along with a picture of Blair in a white lab coat.  I dismissed it and waited for instructions.  Jim smiled slightly as he gestured for Simon to follow him. 

"Sandburg, exactly the way we came in.  No exceptions.  You understand?"  

"Yeah, Simon.  We'll be careful.  You do the same."  Blair pulled me behind him and we began our escape to the outside.

"Base, this is Timberwolf.  Do you copy?"  

_"Timberwolf, this is Base.  Switch to channel Zebra."_  Blair switched his comm. gear to channel 34 as he had been instructed by the SWAT Captain before they went in.  Obviously, Holleran already knew what the other comm. channel was.  

"Base, this is Timberwolf.  Switching to channel Zebra….I have the package.  We're returning to base. Timberwolf out."

_"Base, acknowledged.  Base, out."_

"Timberwolf? Blair, are you a closet jarhead or something?"  I whispered to him.

"I've just been hanging out around Jim too long.  Or maybe in another life.  C'mon let's get out of here."  He grabbed my hand and we slowly proceeded down another hallway.   I prayed that the thundering of my heart wouldn't give our position away.  Then, the facility's surroundings melted away into the wilderness.

_"Oh, God.  I'm shot.  He shot me."  A surprised and bedraggled looking Blair looked at Jim, his hand on his injured leg.  _

_"C'mon, Chief.  We'll get out this.  Stay focused.  Daryl will stay with you here while Simon and I track that wacko down.  This will be all over soon."  Jim half-dragged, half-carried the injured man towards a dark tunnel entrance._

_"Okay, Jim."  Blair winced in pain as they moved him further down a dark tunnel.  Naked fear played with the younger African-American boy's features as he followed the three men….  _

            I blinked as I returned to the present.  _Great._  No wonder he seems so comfortable with all of this.  I'll have to ask him about that sometime, if we ever get out of this.

Section 82:

            The buzzing had gotten to the point where Jim didn't even try and fight it anymore.  There was no filtering, no ignoring it, no dialing it down, or any working around it.  He could feel the vibrations of people moving around the facility through the walls.  The metal gurters supporting the facility transmitted sound and movement to his sensitive fingertips.  The only problem was it took an inordinate amount of concentration to work around his overloaded hearing.  His muscles betrayed his concentration by spasming slightly.  Just enough to be annoying.   He was very concerned that he was going miss something and get himself and Simon killed.  He turned and glanced back towards Simon.  They continued to move towards their target, a large operations bay, located now only twenty yards away.

            He could feel a constant pattern of tapping from somewhere in front of him.  _Somewhere close.  Like someone tapping his foot or something.  Maybe a nervous habit._  Whatever it was he could use it as a homing beacon.  He gestured to Simon to take the other side of the hallway as they stood in front of the door that lead to their target.  Jim laid his hand over the door and waited.  The thumping continued, stronger than ever.  He felt slight vibrations from many directions.  He slid his hand to the bottom of the door, trying to detect air movements.   The facility must be pretty well sealed because even he couldn't feel any air movement from the other side of the door.  If anything, the buzzing was getting louder and more insistent.  He screwed up his eyes in an effort to dispel the painful distraction.  He looked over at Simon, waiting to give him the signal that he was going in.  Simon mouthed the words, "Are you okay?"  Jim nodded lightly, not wanting to set up the waves of pain in his head again.  

            Jim then got the strangest feeling that they shouldn't go into the room.  He waved Simon away from the door and began walking back slowly.  Then, he grabbed Simon's arm and began to run back towards where they had just come.  Simon seemed to be yelling something, but Jim couldn't hear him.  _Just run!_    About fifteen seconds later, a large explosion rocked the floor, sending both men to their knees.  

            Jim blacked out.  

            Jim returned to consciousness to the insistent shaking of his shoulder.

            "Jim, are you okay?"  Simon's voice wavered, revealing his worry for the detective.

            "Yeah, I guess so….Holy shit!  I can hear you now!"  Simon helped Jim to his feet.

            "What do you say we go get this guy?"  Simon slapped Jim on the back.

            "I say, Hoo Yah!" Jim's renewed sense of purpose buoyed both their determination to end this.

            "Get on the comm….."

Section 83:

            "Jim!  Simon!  Do you read?"  Blair had abandoned the call signs in his panic as we had felt the blast shake the building around us.    I waited in tense anticipation as the silence continued.  Blair looked at me with such pain in his eyes, I could feel my stomach clenching in commiseration.

            I leaned up against the wall and a flash came to me.

_Jim and Simon were about to enter a room blocked by a heavy, solid metal door.  Jim paused and slid his hand up and down the door and the surrounding wall.  He looked at Simon as Simon said something to him.  As if in slow motion, the two men backed away from the door and started running.  The door blew off its hinges and the force of the blast pushed the two men down._

_Simon was the first to get up and rushed over to Jim's side.  Jim was unresponsive for a few seconds but then started to come around.  Simon kept asking Jim if he was okay.  Finally, Jim answered, "Holy shit!  I can hear you now!"_

_"Get on the comm. and check on the status of our backup!"_

_"Yes, sir.  Base, come in.  This is Ellison…." _

            I snapped back and smiled widely at Blair who was still waiting in tense anticipation.  

            "Blair, they're fine.  And Jim can hear now.  They should be calling into the Base any second now."  I breathed another sigh of relief and watched as Blair's features softened with the news.  Blair's hands flew up to his comm. gear.  He smiled again.  

            "C'mon, we have to get out of here and let Capt. Simms know what's going on.  Good job, by the way.  You're useful to have around."  Blair took my hand again as we continued again towards the outside. 

            "Thanks, I think. You, too.  We will have a lot to talk about when we get out this."

            "More than you think." 

            Finally, we reached the outside and ran out into the darkness.

Section 84:

            "We have to end this.  Now."  Jim turned on his comm. gear, "Base, this is Ellison.  Attempting to acquire primary target.  Banks is point on secondary objective.  Remaining operatives are active on perimeter.  Ellison, out."

            "Base, affirmative.  Backup ETA 5 minutes.  Base, out."  

            Jim could hear the SWAT Captain's pounding heartbeat and rapid breathing through the communications equipment.  He was afraid for his men and of getting out of all of this in one piece.  Jim was, too.

            Jim cocked his head in a position that even Simon recognized as his 'Sentinel pose'.  Jim was listening for something only Jim could possibly hear.  Holleran was going through a great deal of trouble to get him off the trail of the captured officers.  Holleran's hostage, Max, had been liberated and maybe he was starting to get desperate.  

            Jim's eyes refocused on his Captain.  "Okay, Sir.  The National Guard is arriving.  Can you brief them on what's going on and make sure that Max and Blair are okay?"

            The Captain nodded.  "What are you going to do?"

            "I'm going to take out the remaining perps and get the SWAT teams out.  After that, it's between Holleran and me.  That's what all of this was for.  I think it's time to give him what he wants.  Get the other detectives out of here.  I don't want anyone else to be in a position to get hurt."

            "Good luck and be careful, Jim.  I'll say it because Sandburg isn't here to do it."

            "Thanks, sir.  You, too."  

            Simon took off down the hallway while giving a briefing over the comm. to Captain Simms and the arriving National Guard troops.

            Jim finally allowed himself to succumb to a little bit of the overwhelming exhaustion he was feeling.  All the pain, the guilt, and the pressure of not knowing what this crazy wants to do was all catching up to him.  He ran his fingers through his short hair and started off towards the main floor of the facility.  Hopefully, he could pick up a trail.  

            He reached the main floor a few minutes later and looked up and saw the hallways of all the other floors.  A slight wave of vertigo passed through him, but he dismissed it and kept moving.  He heard murmuring and the whine of electronic equipment to his left so he turned and followed it.  

            He came to a door marked "Operations Room" and stopped.  The voices were coming from inside and were much louder now.

            "Just shut up.  If you don't sit there and shut up, I'm going to start picking you off, one by one.  Do you understand?…I said, Do you understand?  Answer me when I address you, soldier!"

            "Yes, sir!"  Several voices said in unison.  The officers.  He thought that he was actually hearing everything a little like in an echo.  Maybe one of the comm. gears wasn't altogether off.   He listened a little bit closer to his comm. gear.  He heard the sliding noise of boots pacing the floor.  Probably three, circling the perimeter.  _The remaining perps_.  He also heard the scratching of rope on metal, probably the officers trying to get untied in the southwest corner of the room.  Holleran wouldn't be here, not yet anyway.  Their game was far from over, but he could end this game now.  

            He shouldered open the door and laid down cover fire as he dove into the room, praying he didn't hit any officers.  He made it behind a large computer server and looked out briefly to see where the soldiers were located.  One was moaning in pain and holding his stomach.  _Good, he got one of them.  That meant two more were still active_.

            "Ellison!  We know it's you.  Holleran said you'd try this. Show yourself or we'll kill the hostages.  Collateral damage.  Can't be helped in times of war!"  One of the soldiers yelled at Jim's general vicinity.     _Also good.  They didn't know where he was hiding, but they could find out soon enough._  He waited.

            One of the remaining two came just close enough…Jim leapt out of his hiding place and grabbed the man, putting him in a half-nelson and ripped the gun out of his hand.  The man yelped in surprise and tried to struggle.  Jim dragged him out into the center of the room in full view of the remaining soldier.  Jim held his gun up to the head of his captive.

            "Is this what you want?  I can kill him and be over to you in a few seconds.  You'll never know what hit you.    Come out and throw down your weapon.  You know you won't get out of this without my help.  I will attest to your cooperation."  The soldier he had a grip on struggled again until Jim tightened his hold.  "Stop moving if you know what's good for you."  He hissed into the man's ear.

            The last soldier walked into the center of the room, his left arm dangling.  Three blood droplets splashed onto the floor.  The gun was held weakly in his other hand.   He threw the gun to Jim's feet and sank to his knees, his hands folded on his head.  Cheers from the officers rose up.  Jim threw his captive on the ground next to the injured soldier and pulled his knife out to free the officers.  

            "Officer, I trust you can handle this from here."

            "That's an affirmative, Detective!"  The officer whose nametag read _L._ _Smith_ replied.   "We'll see you on the outside."

            "I have one more objective to complete.  Here."  He tossed his comm. over to Smith.  "Fill in Captain Simms.  The National Guard unit should be on its way here.  Oh, and tell Banks and Sandburg to keep their asses in the truck. I don't need anymore civilians being used as human shields."

            "Yes, sir!"

            Jim hefted his gun back on his shoulder and walked out of the room.

            "I have a man to see about a watch."

Section 85:

            "Simon, Jim said what?"

            "That he was going to meet with Holleran and end this."

            "And you let him?"

            "Have you ever tried to argue with him when he's in _soldier_ mode?"

            "What happens now?"  Blair chewed his lip in frustration.

            "We send in the National Guard unit to secure the facility and we end this."  They both turned to see the fifty National Guard soldiers pass by them in smaller groups of five to ten, fanning out as they got closer to the facility.  

            "I hate waiting."

            "I know, Sandburg, I know." The Captain put his hand up to his comm. unit.  "Wait, the SWAT officers are coming out now."

            Ten exhausted officers ran out towards the SWAT van and immediately formed a circle around Captain Simms.  The Captain began gesturing wildly, but looked decided more relaxed.  A few minutes later, an officer jogged over to where Blair, Simon, and Max were standing by Jim's truck.

            "Ellison asked me to tell you that he was okay and that he was going after Holleran himself.  Something about a watch.  He also said to…"

            "STAY BY THE TRUCK."  Simon and Blair said in unison with the officer.  The officer gave them a funny look and finished his message.

            "Yeah.  I see this is more of a usual operation than an unusual one, huh?  Anyway, the National Guard unit is in and some of us will be securing the perimeter.  I can update you as soon as we know anything else."

            "Do you know where Jim is?"  Max asked, the first thing she had said since they came out of the building.

            "Negative.  He gave me his comm. gear.  He seems pretty capable, though.  I'm sure he'll be fine.  I have to go.  As I said, I'll keep you updated."

            "Thanks, Officer."

            "No problem, Captain."  He jogged back to join his team.  

            "Problem."  Max said.  "Holleran's going to take Jim hostage and kill him."

Section 86:

            "Holleran!  I'm here.  Let's do this!"  Jim stood back in the center of the main floor with all of his senses on full alert, his hands up.

            "I've waited a long time for this.  To see my brother's killer.  How does it feel to have his blood on your hands?"  Lt. Michael J. Holleran strode into the center of the floor with his AK-47 trained on Jim.

            "Your brother died for his country.  I had nothing to do with that.   I survived, he didn't.  It's a tragedy, but that's what happened."  Jim looked directly into Holleran's eyes.

            "I heard what the military told us about what happened.  I know he was Special Ops, like you.  The government wouldn't tell us what _I _know really happened."  Holleran's heartbeat sped up as he became more incensed.  Jim hoped he could work him up enough to make a mistake.  _He only needed a moment_.

            "What if I told you you were right?  Boss was a great man.  A great officer, a great CO.  We did not exist as far as the government was concerned.  We were in places where we shouldn't have been.  We all paid for that.  All of my team paid with their lives.  I think about their sacrifice every day."  Jim fought to keep his voice dispassionate and even.  He didn't want to provoke the man to act too soon.

            "Sacrifice?!  You talk about it like they had a choice.  All the training I received was to take you out the way my brother was taken out.  An eye for an eye, so to speak.  My brother's death killed my father, broke apart all that remained of my family.  You had to have betrayed your unit.  That's why you were spared.  Given commendations for _valor _and_ honor_."  Holleran's heartbeat heightened even further as he spit out the last words.  The tip of his gun wavered as he spoke, revealing his high emotion.  _A little bit more._

"Wait.  I have something from your brother.  He wanted me to give it to you.  I'm just sorry I wasn't able to give it to you before."  He slid his hand slowly into his pocket and pulled out the pocket watch.  "Here, it was your dad's.  Boss wanted you to have it."

            "YOU DO NOT GET TO BE INVOLVED WITH MY FAMILY!  I know what you're trying to do.  It won't work.  You will be dead before we end all of this."  He grabbed the watch out of Jim's hand and threw across the room.  It smashed into a million pieces and scattered all over the concrete floor.  "Now move it.  You're going to go on a trip and see my brother again."

            Holleran shoved Jim to the stairwell and up to the roof, passing several teams of National Guard and SWAT.  No one stopped Holleran as Jim waved them off.  He heard the officers report their position as they observed them pass by.

            "Bullet in the back is fitting, I think.  A good death for a traitor.  Hell, I'll even give you a head start.  Go, run away, see how far you get."  Jim could tell this man's grip on reality was tenuous at best.  

            "Look, Holleran.  We can stop this right now, before we add assault of an officer of the law to your list of crimes."  Jim started, not sure of how to get through to the man.

            "Do you think I give a _shit_ about that?  I killed that girl, for Chrissake.  She betrayed us.  If you can't count on your own, who can you count on?"    Holleran laughed at his own words.  _This man doesn't intend to be around to pay for his crimes.   He intends to be a martyr for his cause. _

"Do you think you're being noble here?  Do you think your brother or your father would approve of the way you're handling this?  Your men are captured.  You're all alone now.  This isn't honorable.  It's cowardly."

            Holleran exploded into a rage, threw down his gun, and rushed Jim.  _Perfect._  Jim and Holleran collided and Holleran managed to get Jim on the ground.  Jim threw a punch that landed squarely on Holleran's jaw, but it didn't seem to phase him.  They exchanged blows and Jim managed to land a few on Holleran's head and chest.  _What the hell would it take this lunatic down? _  Jim felt Holleran's steel-toed boots cutting into his ribs, momentarily knocking the wind out of him.  Somewhat dazed, Jim prepared to block another series of punches and kicks, but Holleran fell away from him.  Blair stood over of the two of them holding Holleran's gun.  

            "Sandburg?  What the hell did you do?"

            "Well, I guess I knocked him out with his own gun.  Cool, huh?"  He helped Jim get back to his feet.  Jim winced as he felt his ribs.  One or two broken, bruised heavily at the very least.  Felt like a truck had hit him.

            "Yeah, thanks."  He pulled out his pair of handcuffs and put them on Holleran.  "I could've handled this, Chief."

            "Yeah, but Max said that I'd better help you or…"

            "Or nothing.  I'm sure you could've handled it, but I thought I'd save you some injury.  Okay, man?"

            "Does Simon know you're up here?"  

            "What do you think?"  Ten soldiers streamed onto the roof in military precision and surrounded Holleran, Jim, and Blair.  

            "Target contained.  Returning to Base," one of the soldiers said into his comm. 

            _It was over._

Section 87:

            "Max, I think I owe you a date."  Blair carried two mugs of chamomile tea to the kitchen table.  Sunlight was streaming in through the French doors and I sighed.  

            "Oh, I think you may owe my a little more than a good time.  You have a lot of 'splaining to do."  I tried to give my best Ricky Ricardo impression.

            "Uh, I guess so.  Yeah.  Jim?"  Jim looked up from his spot at the counter in the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

            "It's okay.  We owe a lot to her.  Helped you to save my ass.  Hell, she saved my ass, too. "  Jim nodded at me and went upstairs to his room.

            "Okay, after all that ass-saving going on, I think we need to get a few things straight."  I stood up and walked over to Blair, who was sitting on a kitchen chair adjacent to mine.  I sat down on his lap, just inches from being face-to-face.

            "Um, yes?  What can I do for you?"  His eyes sparkled and his nose crinkled up just a bit when he smiled at me.

            "Shut up."  I kissed him directly on his soft lips.  "Okay, now you can talk."

            "Ummm?  Can we do that again?"

            "Sure.  Then we can go to this teahouse that I know about on campus.  It's a great place to talk….."

**THE END. **

_(Well, for now anyway.)_

**Stay tuned, Sentinel-junkies.  I have a sequel in the works called Sensitive.  Same great characters, new and different owies.   Please read and review.  I love hearing from all of you!  Thanks.******


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